A Fork in the Road
by Azorrah Lee
Summary: Kurt found himself instrumental in a political game of chess, he was in a love triangle and his life was spiraling into the darkness. Deceit, scheming and money were the only language they used. When anything goes, the white hats come off.
1. Prologue: Opening Arguments

**A/n: I edited this chapter for continuity reasons, I've storyboarded their lives and need to fix some stuff that wouldn't match up later; hopefully I got it all.**

**this is not the 'Shelter from the Storm' reboot but it is PucKurtofsky. It's an AU like all my work; it gets really angsty and I'm trying my hand at smut for public consumption. This is totally not a one shot and this love triangle is going places, very dirty places but places none the less.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, Scandal or any other fandom I may reference in my writing.**

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Kurt let out a shaky breath; he cleared his mind of all prior thoughts and entered the hospital room. He looked at the large figure that lay in the bed; he couldn't believe that he was seeing him again when he had come so close to giving up all hope. Kurt fell into the seat next to the bed.

"David," The man looked at him for a moment before turning his back, Kurt didn't know whether to laugh or cry; he chose instead to be angry, "David Alexander Roderick Karofsky! You have some nerve turning your back on me! You're the one who disappeared for three years, if anyone has the right to be angry it is me."

"How'd you find me?" a defeated voice asked without allowing him the joy of gazing on his husband's handsome face.

"How did I find you? It wasn't easy but I've known where you are for months and I've waited for you to reach out," Kurt levelled his breath and calmed himself down, "I asked my uncle to call in a military favour. David, we disagree over something so trivial and you quit your job and enlist in the army? What were you thinking?"

"It was not trivial," the man he once knew was shining through by the passion, "Don't you dare make me seem like a sulking child when you know very well that this was bigger than that!"

"No matter how big," Kurt shook his head, he couldn't believe that in the short time they had been back together they had fallen into old habits, "You could have told me you were leaving me, I had to find out from your staff that you had quit your job. You were in the best trauma surgery programmes in the world and you threw it away; worse, you threw me and our marriage away."

Kurt stood up briskly; he looked down at the man he loved for a moment before turning to leave.

"Kurt," the voice was strained and small, he stopped dead in his tracks, "I still love you, do you still love me."

"I love you wholly," Kurt was silent for a moment, "I'm just not sure I can be in love with you right now."

~0~

Kurt stood entered the crowded foyer; he avoided bumping into any of the people who were hard at work, "Hi, I'm supposed starting here today, Where should I wait for instruction?"

"Hi, Laura Kingston," the receptionist extended her hand with a friendly smile.

"Sorry," Kurt put his bag down on her desk, "Kurt, Kurt Hummel."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr Hummel," her smile remained sweet, "Welcome to Anderson, Robertson and Zuckerman; the first year associates are having a mixer in the boardroom. The boardroom is down the hall, last door to your left."

"Thank you Laura," Kurt smiled but it didn't reach his eyes, his mind was still on his hospital visit earlier this morning. He pushed all thoughts that weren't related to his work as a lawyer aside and got himself I the zone to psych out his opposition, only half of them would be retained for a second year and he wasn't going to be out in the cold.

Kurt entered the subdued room; the first thing he noticed was that the air-conditioning was turned up to high for the fall; the second was all the fresh faces that were just out of law school, it made him feel anxious about his additional qualification. He gravitated toward the coffee bar and prepared himself a chai latte; he was keeping to himself when a young man with too much gel in his hair approached him.

"Hi," he smirked and wagged an oversized eyebrow at Kurt, "I'm Blaine Anderson, it's nice to meet you, I went to Stanford."

Kurt looked down at the shorter boy for second, "Kurt Hummel, you're fringing on sexual harassment but that's just the legal opinion of a PhD."

The boy's face grew taught with rage, "Do you know who I am?" Kurt rolled his eyes to himself, "I'm Blaine Anderson!"

Kurt chuckled to himself, "We've established that and it failed to strike fear into anyone's heart."

"My father is a named partner," Blaine forced a laugh but Kurt kept his face uniform, "You're a joke, you frigid bitch."

"Go play with the rest of the kids," Kurt shooed the temperamental egocentric dweeb off.

"I guess I'm not the only old soul," a gravely baritone came from behind Kurt, startling the lithe lawyer, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"So your intention was just to insult me?" Kurt looked expectantly at the handsome gentleman and got the idea that he wasn't going to get on well with any of his colleagues.

"I'm not sure how I insult-" the man face palmed when the reality of what he'd said, "I don't mean you're old, not that you're a spring chicken."

"I'm only twenty-eight," Kurt exclaimed in shock.

"Hey," the man held his hands up in surrender, "I'm not judging, I'm thirty. Noah."

"Kurt," he smiled politely as he shook the extended hand, "I'm sorry about that, I'm just testy about all these kids in their lower twenties and their fresh attitudes."

"What held you up?" Kurt didn't quite understand the question and his facial expression was telling, "Money or Booze?"

"Oh, neither," Kurt smiled at the bleak story that reminded him of David, "I graduated and passed my boards on time but I went ahead and took advantage of my ripe mind and registered for my PhD full time, pilot class."

"Oh wow," Noah chuckled, "That makes my story seem stupid, for me it was both. I drank in high school instead of working for grants. Then I decided to work my way around the world, I got stuck in Florence for a little longer than I anticipated and started college then I was twenty-three."

"You are the only other human being here," Kurt exclaimed much to Noah's surprise, "Look at them, still wet behind the ears. We can do what old people do together."

"We'll demand prune juice and tell stories about the good old days," Kurt laughed for the first time since David left him, "So where'd you go to school?"

"I did all of my degrees at Yale," Kurt had never realised how pretentiously vanilla he sounded when he said that, "Oh god, I sound like an Ivy League snob. Where did you go to school?"

"I did undergrad at Penn State and Postgrad at Columbia." He said between fits of laughter, "After four years it was time to go home."

"A New Yorker? I think I might just hold onto you." Kurt did his best impression but it was dismal failure, "I'm a Southern Belle."

"You don't even sound southern," Noah gave Kurt a scrutinous look, "Where in the south?"

"Texas," Kurt loved to watch the flabbergasted looks on people's faces when he revealed this minor detail, "but I do admit I went to boarding school here in DC."

"Could you please take your seats," Mr Anderson spoke, Kurt recognised the silver fox from his interview; there was a definite resemblance between the man and his son; Kurt took a seat in the back near the door beside Noah. "Good morning and welcome to your first day at the finest law firm in Washington DC. I'm Gregory Anderson and my name is on the building so I get to welcome you all. I also get the privilege of telling you that you were selected from droves of equally qualified applicants but we chose you; don't let us down or we will replace you at the drop of a hat."

"Francine Zuckerman and I think what Greg is trying to say," a round woman with greying blond hair took the floor, her voice was raspy from excessive smoking, "Is that at this firm we expect the very best at all times and have no time for slackers. We made more than two billion dollars last year and I only want to see that growing."

"Now," Mr Anderson smiled broadly, "for the only fun you're ever going to have at work; Ms Robertson came out of retirement and is in a chopper on the roof and the first four of you up there get to join her on your first case, the rest of you will review and archive old depositions. Go."

Kurt was glad he hadn't gotten too comfortable in his seat because he felt himself being yanked out the boardroom; he saw it was Noah who was leading him toward the stairwell.

"Let's just say you owe me one," Kurt's mind kicked into gear and he started shredding the stairs, taking them two at a time as he and Noah raced for the prize. Kurt was simultaneously thanking his husband for pushing him to be more active back in their varsity days and hoping to a god he didn't believe in that the elevator took its own time.

"I owe you so big!" Kurt said when they reached the roof after climbing five flights of stairs; the frigid New York air whipped them senseless. Kurt covered his ears and tried to remain composed as the helicopter blades whirled above his head, Kurt who had become more accustomed to the flashier thing in his lifetime led Noah to the chopper; they were each handed headsets.

"Good Morning Ms Robertson," Kurt smiled excitedly because they were the first ones there. He recognised her immediately, she was the First Lady of California; Melody Katherine Robertson-Grant, "I'm Kurt Hummel."

"Noah Puckerman," they shook hands with their superior.

"Hummel?" Kurt had stars in his eyes, he was meeting a legal legend and somebody whom he had admired for so long; he couldn't believe his luck, he knew she was affiliated with the law firm when he'd interviewed here but he had never thought he'd get to meet the woman. He dreaded the question that would follow, "Like Governor Albert Hummel?"

"That would be my father," Kurt could see Noah's jaw drop.

"That's one hell of a name to live up to," she said with a chuckle, "Burt is known for his no nonsense attitude as a high ranking engineer of one of America's biggest car makers, a businessman and now I get to see how it translates to his parenting; have you ever considered going by something else to get out of his shadow."

"I went by my mother's surname for like a month before resigning to the lesser of two evils," They were joined by two females who had their heels in their hands.

"Your mother was a notoriously brutal business woman in her time," she turned to the pilot and signalled for take-off.

"Rachel Berry," the brunette said with a broad smile, "It's a pleasure to meet you Ms Robertson."

"Quinn Fabray," the pretty blond said simply.

"Okay, call me Mellie because if I hear Ms Robertson one more time I will haemorrhage and die," She said with a smile that Kurt wasn't sure was a welcome or warning sign, "We're going to Baltimore to see a very important client, Benji Porter."

"The mob boss?" Noah asked, his eyes the size of saucers.

"Don't mention that," She said in a deadly serious tone, "We only represent his legitimate business interests and as such we are both blind and impartial to his other dealings. He's being sued by his son again, we got the case dismissed the last time and we're going to do all that we can to ensure that this doesn't see the inside of a court room."

"Is this the same son?" Noah asked while Kurt took mental note of what was being said.

"No this time it's his youngest son who is contesting his divorce," She spoke clinically, "This would be Mr Porter's sixth divorce in four wives."

Kurt was confused, "He married and divorced some of his wives more than once?"

"His first wife and mother of his children was his first, third and sixth wife," Kurt shot Noah a bewildered look at the calibre of knowledge the man possessed on a client he didn't know they had, "I read."

After they landed on the large estate Kurt took a moment to straighten his hair; as they walked up to the front door Kurt was wreaked by nerves but chose to keep his composure and ride the nerves out.

"So your dad's a governor?" Noah whispered the question in Kurt's ear, "Why aren't you announcing that from the rooftops like that git from this morning? It would have put him in his place."

"I don't usually bring it up," Kurt clutched his bag closer, "I don't usually say much about my family, in my interview they asked what my parents did for a living and I told them my father was a mechanic and small business owner and my mother was dead."

"You lied?" Noah was shocked.

"No, my father is a mechanic...al engineer and small franchise business owner," Kurt took a deep breath, he hated having to explain the intricacies of his life, "he just also happens to be governor. My mother is dead; the fact that she chaired several major corporate boards and was air to half of a billion dollar energy dynasty doesn't change that."

"That must make life easier," Noah's eyes widened when what he'd said struck him, "Not the mother thing, sorry about that, but the whole old money thing; you got to concentrate on your studies, my mom's a single school teacher so I was working two jobs while I was in school."

Kurt gave it a moment's thought, "It's hard in a different way; this was the only law firm that gave me an interview. Most either hired or dismissed me based on my name and the repercussions that came with my last name; I got this interview because of a typo on my résumé, autocorrect accidently misspelled my name when I was updating it. I was Valedictorian four times; I graduated summa cum laude from law school and magna cum laude from my PhD! My name was important than that."

"That sucks," Noah gave him a pat on the back, "If it's any consolidation, interviews suck; I had to shave Mohawk after the first two."

"Good morning and welcome to the Porter House," a sophisticated elderly man said in the dreariest voice Kurt had ever heard, "Ms Robertson, the lord of the manor has been expecting you. Please come in, may I take your coats and hats."

Kurt handed the man his pea coat. He listened to the rhythm created by clack of heel and the click of hard sole shoes on the marble floors. They were seated in what appeared to be the formal dining room; the crystal chandelier was excessively large but not out of place in the elaborate classic décor that looked to be inspired a hybrid of Downton Abby meets Jerseylicious; two very powerful design aesthetics that were never meant to meet.

A young boy of about age twelve appeared and took the seat at the head of the large table; he was dressed in a very preppy fashion and carried himself with an air of sophistication that would have made him at home at many of the summer events Kurt had found himself at in his lifetime which made him out of place in the tackily decorated manor. At the other end of the room a tall athletic man entered in a classic black suit, too much gel in his hair, a gold trimmed walking stick he didn't need and a thick cloud of expensive cologne; Kurt could deduce that this was Benji Porter, he also understood why he'd been married six times because outside of the excessive wealth Benji Porter was a fine male specimen.

"Good morning Melody, London and other new friends," he gave Ms Robertson a kiss on each cheek before blowing one across the room to the young boy who appeared to be enraged by the action, "I see you listened to me well, I want only the best representation for my littlest one when we go to court and that's why I hired you."

"We will work hard to preserve the integrity of your case," Ms Robertson smiled broadly, she turned to them and began to bark instructions, "Okay, we're going to be working on a divorce settlement for his son; I will mediate, two of you will be on the father's team and two of you will be on the son's. I expect both teams to be on their A game because this is a serious deal."

"Are we really just working on a family meeting?" Quinn asked clearly regretting ruining her stockings.

"Mr Porter Pays us twelve hundred a piece per hour in addition to the millions of dollars he brings us in business a year," Ms Roberts snapped, "We do whatever he wants, all three naming partners once went to the Australian Open to proof the wildcard clause because he thought he had a chance."

"Okay," Quinn said dejectedly, "How do we split?"

"Blondie you're with Ladyface," she pointed to Kurt, he couldn't tell if that was a term of endearment or an insult, "No, then this other team doesn't work for me. Boys versus girls, perfect; boys are with London and girls are with Benji."

"You are so lucky to have me," Noah said nudging Kurt as they walked across the room to the prepubescent teen.

"Good Morning, I'm Kurt Hummel and this is Noah Puckerman and we will be your lawyers this morning," Kurt smiled and extended a friendly handshake, "We ensure you that we will reach a settlement that you will find quite satisfactory."

"Listen here 'Alexander McQueen two thousand and four boots'," the boy said giving him attitude for days, "There is only one thing I want and I doubt you're going to get it for me."

"Firstly these boots are from Alexander McQueen's first menswear collection and are an institution of fashion," Kurt was working on this kid's wavelength, "Secondly, I grew up with this king of parent, you tell me what you want and I will make it happen."

"What kind of parent?" Noah whispered in confusion.

"The kid is wearing a higher dollar figure than you and you have a job."

"Oh," Noah seemed to have an epiphany of sorts, "So, tell us why are you contesting your parent's divorce? What do you want to get out of it? Because I don't think you really want them together."

"Their happiness means nothing to me," he leaned forward and ushered Noah to do the same, "You should consider axing that embarrassing excuse for a moustache."

"Why don't you take that advice and apply it to those pubes on your head," Noah smirked at the kid who defensively clasped his curls.

"What do you want London?" Kurt was tired of this back and forth, he hadn't spent eleven years studying the law for this; he stared the boy down with his dead grey eyes.

The kid pulled out a list and began reading it, "I want a car, an apartment and a stipend that will keep me in the lifestyle I've become accustomed to."

Kurt looked at the kid whilst the cogs in his mind were turning, "Are you asking for emancipation?"

"What is that?" his eyes went wide, "That sounds so much cooler; didn't Mariah Carey have an album called 'The Emancipation of Mimi' before she got fat?"

"Yes she did," Kurt looked the kid over, "Emancipation is the complete legal severing of the parent-child relationship and abolition of any parental responsibility and support."

"In a lot of spheres you legally become an adult," Noah spoke in calm and clinical voice, "This would require you to be economically self-sufficient, have residence and you would have to have a valid reason.

"I want to ask for that too!" the kid had lopsided smirk on his face, his mind deep in thought.

"You can't ask your parents for stuff if you're emancipated," Noah said, his voice rising slightly, "You are on your own plus you don't have a valid reason."

"What if I say my parents are abusing me?" London's eyes were calculating.

"Are they?" Noah asked.

"No."

"Then that would be purgery," Noah shook his head at the kid, "it's against the law to lie in a testimony, but if you were abused then your parents would go to jail and you'd end up in foster care."

"You want attention," Kurt spoke frankly, he looked over his shoulder to the self-absorbed man who seemed to be more interested in finding wife number seven based on his behaviour toward the girls, "I get it, at your age my mother was a tycoon on Wall Street who sat on so many company boards she used to call me by her assistant's name. My father's political career was starting up, he was running for local office and I saw him one weekend a month. At the time we live in the middle of nowhere so they sent me off to boarding school, I know what it means to want attention but there are limits to what will do and we neither get your parents convicted of any crimes they didn't commit nor will we purger ourselves in anyway but we will get you whatever it is that you want."

"Kurt is right," Noah was calm once more, "you need only tell us what you heart yearns for and we will ensure that you want for nothing."

"I want my dad to take full custody of me," he took a deep breath, "My mother said she was tired of his black hole of a personality and that we were moving to the west coast, I don't want to leave. I want him to help me with my homework like a normal dad and I want him to attend my polo and lacrosse matches; I want him to come to attend my school plays and my musical recitals, he doesn't even know what instrument I play. I also want a fifteen percent increase in my allowance."

"That we can work with that," Noah smiled at the kid before turning to Kurt, "Well Princess, your parents locked you up in a tower and that just got us the gory details, you wanna open to heal the booboo."

"By the time I was twelve my mother had been dead for a years and my father's political career didn't start till I was seventeen," Kurt smiled to himself, "I went to boarding school of my own accord but I will open, thank you."

"Ouch, princess can pack a punch," he nudged Kurt's shoulder.

"Both metaphorically and literally," Kurt punched him before turning to his notes and organising them into an argument."

~0~

When Kurt got off the chopper at the end of the day he was pooped. They had argued all day; started their argument going in a purely materialistically outrageous direction to tire the opposition, they then switched strategies and when for the emotional jugular. At the end of the day their clients were both pleased; London got to stay on the east coast with a father who was more aware of his needs as a child, he got an increase on his allowance and Mr Porter could get divorced in peace. Kurt wondered if every day would be this much of a joke or if this was what they considered fun but this was not what he'd become a lawyer for, he wanted to work on actual divorces and lawsuits.

"Boys, you want to grab a drink with us to celebrate being better than everyone else?" Quinn asked coyly, "losers are buying."

"Oh Quinn," Kurt said well aware that she wasn't flirting with him, "You are barking up the wrong tree, I am a married man."

"Oh dammit," she spoke sarcastically, "that's what's wrong with me hitting on you."

Rachel seemed more excited about his marriage than he was, "How long have you been together? How long have you been married?" she had stars in her eyes, "What does he do? I'm not being presumptuous, it is a man right?"

"I'm not sure which question to answer first," Kurt giggled as they stood in the elevator, "It is a man, he's a surgeon, we've been together since I was fourteen but we got married after undergrad, we'd been officially living together for four years but we went to boarding school together. We both stayed at Yale for postgrad; me law, him medical school. Then he enlisted to do his residency in the army while I did my PhD." He notably omitted the fact that it wasn't a civil decision but rather that they had both chosen to do what they wanted in spite of the others feelings.

"That is the perfect love story," Quinn said with an odd sweetness in her voice, "I want so badly to get married and live happily ever after."

"Me too," Rachel said with a goofy smile, "I want what my two dads had."

"I loved that show," Noah said with a nostalgic look on his face, "My mom and I never missed an episode."

"No," Rachel rolled her eyes, clutching he Technicoloured coat as they exited the lobby, "I have to gay dads who have been happily together for thirty-nine years."

"I personally don't believe in the institute of marriage," Noah said pulling out his phone, "should I call us a cab."

"Valet parking is bringing my car around," Kurt said handing his parking card to the young man at the podium, "We can take that to the bar, it makes more sense than taking a cab, don't you think?"

"You have a car," Quinn was floored by the suggestion of such an absurdity, "How can you afford one already? I'm not buying a car till I've paid off all my student loans."

"Kurt is old money," Noah chuckled, "His mother was in oil."

"Oil?" Rachel sounded horrified, "Do you know what the environmental repercussions of drilling for oil are?"

"My family is in energy," Kurt was secretly that it was out there and no longer shrouded in secrecy, "That includes other things like natural gas, wind farms and solar power."

"You're a Doyle?" Quinn asked with eyes the size of saucers, "That isn't old money that is crazy money."

"Wait, you didn't mention that you were a Doyle," Noah was shocked as people usually were, "That's obscene money."

At that moment Kurt's G-class Benz stopped in front of the group and they raised eyebrows, "Just get in the car and be quiet."

"This car cost more than my apartment," Rachel said sliding into the backseat as Noah and Quinn fought over shotgun, she immerged victorious.

"Okay," Kurt rolled his eyes, "That is quite enough of that, let's just go drinking." An awkward silence washed over the car, "Tell us Rachel, Quinn, where are you from and where'd you go to school?"

"I'm from Northern Montana," Quinn smiled at the thought home, "I went to Georgetown, undergrad and postgrad."

"Well, I'm from Chicago," Rachel said in what Kurt was judging to be a permanent happiness, "I did undergrad at North Western and then I was at Georgetown."

"My husband is from Chicago, wait," Kurt was joining the dots in his mind, "You two know each other?"

"Not really," Quinn said blankly.

Rachel didn't seem satisfied with that answer, "Quinn was popular and ignored me."

"Understandable," Noah said with a chuckle, "I'd also ignore you looking like that."

"I am proud of the way I look," Rachel went on the defensive, "This is the look of my ancestors and I-"

"We mean the way you're dressed," Kurt interjected before she delivered the Barbra Streisand lecture, "You look like my grandmother and a toddle amalgamated into one big monster of bad fashion."

"Every time I look at you I feel like I'm on an acid trip," Noah said frankly, "Plus your people are my people, shalom bitches."

"Honestly," Quinn said with a strained smile, "I think it detracts from your ability as a lawyer, wear fewer colours."

"Oh wow," Rachel was silent as she internalised what was being said, "If I'm going to be a partner by the time I'm forty then I should do all I can in order to reach that goal, if that means one statement piece a day, I can live with that."

They entered the crowded bar and sat down in a booth, their minds were all swimming after a long day. They ordered tequila shots nonstop till one of them passed out. Kurt was nervous about drinking so much, they had work in the morning and before that he had to go see David.

"You want to be partner by the time you're thirty?" Noah asked Rachel after a couple of silent shots, "That is pretty ambitious."

Rachel looked self-conscious about their reaction to her stellar dreams, "Don't you guys have ambitions too?"

"I want to have family by the time I'm thirty," Quinn said softly, "I want to find a good man, get married and raise a family in my native Montana."

"Well I don't have any ambitions other that keeping my job for the next three months," Noah chuckled to himself," but within the next five years I want to set up a college fund for my little sister, she's twelve."

"That is a large age difference," Rachel said before she was able to stop herself.

"My mother had me quite young," Noah looked to be giving the subject more thought than he'd ever cared to, "when I was moving on to college she thought it was a good time to start over."

"I'm an only child," Kurt announced diverting the subject, "In five years, because thirty is around the corner, like Quinn I want to be done practicing the law. Maybe I'll run for public office or I'll be looking into working in the White House… as president."

"You're crazy," Quinn said with a snort of laughter, "Do you think the right wing conservatives would let a gay man become the president?"

"Quinn is right," Rachel said getting too handsy, "I'd vote for you but would they?"

"A portion of them would vote for me," Kurt laughed at himself for a moment, "because I'm old money, I'm southern, I have a very entrepreneurial mind and I'm a firm example of the sanctity of marriage. Oh yeah, my husband is an injured war veteran."

"Here's to dreaming big," Noah said raising a shot glass; they were all becoming sloppy as they descended into an alcoholic stupor, "toast with me."

"Here's to Rachel making partner," Quinn said with a silly smile.

"Here's to Noah making money to send his sister to college," Kurt announced merrily.

"Oh, and Quinn living the American Dream," Noah screamed, drawing the attention of the bar.

"Here's to President Kurt," Rachel cackled, there was a shot for each toast.

"President Kurt Edmund Elizabeth Christopher Hummel, the Eighth." Kurt corrected.

"There were seven men before you named Kurt Elizabeth?" Noah said with a hiccup, "That is one messed up family name."

"The first born men in my family have alternated between the same two names for hundreds of years," Kurt took another shot, "My father, like his grandfather, is Albert Bartholomew Wilhelm James Hummel. I, like my grandfather, am Kurt Edmund Elizabeth Christopher Hummel; they were much more generous with my name."

"That is a lot of names," Quinn giggled, "First grade must have sucked so hard for you."

"You had a hundred names," Rachel laughed as well, "And one of them was a girl's name."

"Don't tell me your parents didn't give you embarrassing middle names!" Kurt protested their roars of laughter, "Come on."

"Quinn is my middle name," She gave a heart chuckle, "My first name is Lucy, the kids in school called me Lucy Caboosy because I was fat."

"Noah Elijah Ira Puckerman," he took two shots consecutively, "I didn't get made fun of, I was the one who made fun of kids."

"Schmira," Rachel exclaimed raucously, "Why didn't they make fun of you Schmira?"

"Oh shut it Berry!" Noah giggled, "Schmira, it is a pretty jewie name."

"I don't have a middle name," Rachel announced seeming almost sober for a moment, "But in elementary school I had the worst perm on the planet, that plus the nose."

"No," Kurt said getting a head of the joke.

"They called me Big Bird," She laughed dejectedly, "it sucked big time but now I'm a lawyer at one of the best firms in the country."

"I played the system all through high school," Noah laughed, "in the halls I pretended not to care but I was an A student and a mean running back."

"I was the star kicker for the football team in high school," Kurt announced, "I was even offered a couple of college scholarships."

"You played football?" Quinn was floored.

"When I wasn't on the mathletes, debating team, drama society and choir," Kurt laughed at himself, "I always had to be twice as good to get half the praise."

"Between middle school and high school I got a nose job, lost fifty pounds and had my braces removed," Quinn said with a giggle, "I then changed school districts and started going by Quinn, I became the most popular girl in school; I was head cheerleader, an honours student, I was dating the captain of the football team and life was perfect."

"Here's to reinvention!" Kurt said raising his umpteenth tequila shot.

"Here's to making it to second year!" Noah announced happily refilling their glasses.

"Here's to getting the first case," Rachel squawked happily.

"Here's to Lizzy, Lucy Caboosy, Schmira and Big Bird being piss drunk," Quinn poured them each a shot for every nickname, "hoorah, let's pass out."

"Guys," Rachel said as they finished the last of their third bottle, "That guy at the bar has been checking Quinn out! Let's go make him uncomfortable."

She dragged Kurt to the bar with her, "Hi," he said with a giggle, he realised that he'd abandoned his coat, jacket and tie; he stood in just his waistcoat and shirt.

"We noticed you checking our friend out," Rachel said trying to seem serious but that only made Kurt burst into fits of laughter, "Why don't you buy her a drink?"

"I would but I was actually checking you out," he spoke in a serious tone even though he seemed to be casual, "Hal."

Rachel giggled and walked back to the booth, Kurt was left standing awkwardly with the serious gentleman, "Rachel, her names Rachel. Why don't you join us for the next round, we're buying, bring your friend too."

Kurt returned to the booth and squeezed in across from Rachel, "What'd you say to him?"

"I invited them to join us," Kurt said with a giggle as two gentlemen approached the booth, "Gentleman; this Quinn, Noah, Rachel, I'm Kurt and we're drunk; please get comfortable."

"I'm Hal," he raised his right hand before gesturing to the strapping gentleman beside him, "this is Tom."

"Hi."

"At ease soldiers Quinn said," garnering laughter from her new friends before she pointed her finger at tom, "You can sit next to me."

"So what do you gentleman do all dressed up like that?" Noah asked as he handed them each a pair of shots.

"We're secret service agents," Hal said sternly, "What do you do?"

"We're lawyers," Kurt said leaning back comfortably, "We're celebrating our first satisfied clients."

"Oh my god," Quinn said leaning seductively over Tom to smack Kurt on the mouth, "Don't say it like that, it makes us sound like hookers."

Everybody laughed, "You're behaving like a hooker," Kurt said nudging her.

"Stop hyper-sexualising my body and scandalising my actions," she said with a goofy smile, "Besides it doesn't look like Tom here minds."

She pulled him in close and started whispering in his ear; Kurt and Noah exchanged a look that expressed everything there was to be said, they both laughed loudly. Kurt climbed over the table to where Noah was sitting, "You looked lonely sitting here because it looks like everybody has paired up."

They looked from the cute conversation Rachel was having with Hal to the overtly sexual of Quinn with Tom, "This is not my life, I'm never the only one not hooking up, maybe this is a parallel universe."

"That's what happens when you decide to go out with girls," Kurt laughed and shook his head, "You sit and watch them hook-up."

"Final Call!"

"Shots!" Kurt announced pouring everyone three shots from their final bottle of the night, "let's get drunk and forget what we did."

"Here's to drinking buddies for life," Rachel screamed raising her glass, they raised their glasses one after the other till there was no booze left.

Kurt stumbled out the bar and into a waiting cab, Noah slid in after him. "You're drunk and I want to see you get home safely."

"You're drunk!" Kurt returned with a laugh, "Driver, I'm going to Xenarius Towers but I don't know about him."

"No," Noah said with a smirk, "Take us to Gemini Mews."

The car started slowly, Kurt looked over at Noah who was staring at him, "What?"

Noah leaned in close, "You look exceptional." Noah leaned in and planted a kiss on Kurt's lips; it was soft and sensual.

"Noah, I'm married." Kurt let his mind work a mile a minute; he was married and this was so wrong, he shouldn't be letting other men kiss him and he shouldn't enjoy it so much but David had left him and it had been so long, three years of celibacy, solitude and thirst. Kurt made a decision; he pulled Noah deeper into the kiss.

"What happened to being married?" Noah smirked between ravaging kisses from Kurt. They reached Noah's gated community and tumble into one of the identical semi-detached duplexes in a tangle of arms and legs.

Kurt pushed Noah backward into the couch; he wrestled the zipper of his trousers open, struggling slightly due to intense inebriation. Kurt brought Noah's throbbing member to his lips, he thought about how long it had been since he had done anything remotely sexual, he plunged in. He applied suction to the engorged penis, twirled his tongue around the exposed purple head and started bobbing his head up and down the shaft. Noah let out a high pitched squeal of ecstasy, Kurt knew then that a blow job truly was like riding a bicycle. Kurt devoured the cock as if to fulfil an undying sexual hunger, his head move to a precise rhythm that alternated frequently between fast, furious and slow, torturous bobbing. Kurt could hear Noah's breathing speeding up, his body went rigid and his member throbbed, "I'm cumming."

Kurt felt the warm salty liquid fill his mouth, he wasn't sure if swallowing would send the wrong message to his colleague but he had just fellated him the day they met, he felt the liquid oozing down his throat and trickle down his chin. He pulled off the still hard member and whipped his chin with the back of his hand. "Do you have a condom?" Kurt heard himself asking as he unbuttoned the larger boy's shirt to reveal a set of well-toned abs.

"There's a box in the entertainment centre," Noah spoke in a breathy voice, "There's lube too."

Kurt smiled as he stripped down to his underwear, he watched as Noah did the same. Kurt placed the box of condoms and tube of lube on the floor beside him; he leaned in and planted a trail of kisses going up Noah's waxed chest to his full lips. Kurt felt his underwear being pulled down his narrow hips, he trailed the kisses back down and grabbed by the hips and flipped him over so he lay face down on the couch with his bottom hanging over the edge.

"I've never done it like this before," Noah sounded nervous and his surprise was evident in his tone as Kurt pulled his underwear down exposing his sumptuous behind.

Kurt parted the muscular cheeks to reveal a hairless sphincter, "And you say you've done this before," Kurt said with a hearty chuckle as he tickled the boy's hole with a finger.

"Well," Noah chuckled along with him, "That might be a white lie."

Kurt inserted a single lubricated finger and ran it over the boy's prostate which made him arch his back, Kurt smiled. He inserted a second then a third finger, each soliciting a gasp and moans of pleasure. Kurt removed his fingers for a moment and received a whimper of longing from Noah; he slowly rolled the condom over his penis, making Noah wait for what he wanted. Kurt put one hand on Noah's shoulder and used the other to guide his latex clad penis to Noah's waiting hole; Noah let out a gasp of delight as Kurt performed the initial penetration, the first thrust was long and slow as Noah's tight sphincter fought against Kurt's member, Kurt felt intense pleasure in his loins as he felt his pelvis touch Noah's buttocks.

Kurt's thrusts started slow, calculated and long, each one grazing on Noah's prostate as in entered and stretching his ring, but as he got into it his thrusts sped up and the sound of flesh on flesh filled the room as Noah's hungry hole devoured Kurt's member and his thrusts increased in speed and ferocity. Kurt nibbled on Noah's ear as he ploughed the man's rear; Noah arched his back in response which sent an insurmountable pleasure through his body. Noah's ring clasped down and tightened on Kurt's throbbing member, "I'm so close!" the larger man said as Kurt's thrusts slowed down.

"Me too," Kurt moaned as pulled Noah's back up to his torso and started stroking his penis to the slow, steady rhythm of his thrusts.

"Oh god," Noah exhaled as his body went rigid once more, his sphincter tightened further and he ejaculated into Kurt's waiting hand.

Kurt's breath shortened as his back arched and he shot ropes of semen into Noah's warm tight canal with an angry grunt. Brought his semen covered hand first to Noah's lips then to his own as they collapsed onto the couch in a sweaty drunk tangle of naked body parts.

~0~

Kurt stood in the shower in his apartment across town from last night thinking about what he'd done; he had woken up with pounding headache naked in the arms of another man and high-tailed it out of there. He needed to wash last night off before he went to work or to see David; he needed to purge whatever the events of last night were from his skin.

He put on a fresh suit; grey, a colour David had always liked to see him. He felt that being good to David would ease the guilt he felt for the pleasure he had experienced the previous night. Kurt called a cab to go pick-up his car from the bar, he did so with discretion, from there he drove to the hospital David was being kept at.

He walked down the halls and navigated to his husband, he stopped dead in his tracks at the door; would he carry on as though nothing had happened or should he fall to his knees and beg for his husband's forgiveness. Kurt turned the knob and walked out into the room with his mind made up; this was a secret he would take to his grave.

"Kurt," David seemed like the man he once knew, he smiled at the sight of his husband; the warm smile that had melted Kurt's heart when he'd agreed to date the boy who was his polar opposite, the smile he'd worn when Kurt had proposed to him, the smile he wore at graduation and on their wedding. Kurt walked over to the chair and took a seat, he remained silent and stone faced, "I thought about what you said and I am so sorry baby; I know that I was unreasonable when it came to you going back to school and me joining the army but I love you. Kurt, I love you more than you could ever think; I missed you every day we were apart, I wrote a hundred letters a week but I was too scared to send any of them, I dialled your number a thousand times but I couldn't find any words to explain the pain I caused you. Kurt, love of my life, I wrote you a letter last week that explained everything and I pray it reached you."

"You were shot and blown up," Kurt's eyes filled with tears, "I told you that would happen, I warned you and you didn't listen to me; I could have lost you and I'd have to remember you by are your clothes and that last fight!"

David looked him with warm hazel eyes, "Baby boo."

"No," Kurt's voice was shaky, "No Baby boo, not now."

"Kurt, I will spend every day of the rest of my life making up for this mistake," David reached his hand for Kurt's face, "There is nothing I want more than for things to go back to the way they once were."

Kurt spoke in a small voice, "Things will never go back to the way they were," Kurt took a deep breath and broke his promise to himself, "I love you so much but… I desecrated the institute of marriage; I defiled the vows that our marriage is based on. I had an extramarital affair," a silence washed over the room, "Calling it an affair is a misrepresentation, I had sex with someone else and I'm so sorry."

David remained silent for a moment, "I left you, I made you do this and I want to make it right."

"Don't you dare," Kurt spoke with a heavy, "Don't you take my wrong doing and make it your own, and don't you dare forgive me because I don't deserve it."

"Kurt," David reached out for Kurt's hand; he placed the shaky hand in the large hand of his husband, "You forgave me."

"This isn't remotely the same," Kurt said angrily wiping his face.

"It was the summer that we'd been dating two years," David said with a crooked smile.

"No," Kurt said angrily.

"I was at a party with the ice-hockey team and they were talking smack about us," the boy continued despite Kurt's protests, "We were keeping our relationship a secret because I wasn't ready, you remember."

"I remember."

"I denied you, our relationship and called you a fag," Kurt hated this story because it showed that his perfect husband had flaws too, "To add insult to injury I had sex with that cheerleader from St Mary's."

"Don't."

"I went home wreaked with guilt and tried to call you but you didn't answer your phone because you were skiing in the alps," he pulled Kurt up onto the bed and into his grip, "I went into the closet that you had organised, put on the suit I had worn when we went to the Opera on our anniversary and hung myself with your brown Louis Vuitton belt."

"You were afraid," Kurt rubbed circles into his love's chest.

"I was a coward," David said, Kurt felt his husband's tears roll onto his forehead; "I left you a note. You cancelled the only time you have with your dad to come to be by my side, you stayed even after you read my stupid confession. You spoke to my dad and made him understand; in that moment I vowed that I would spend the rest of my life making you happy and making sure you never cried like you did that day."

Kurt wiped away David's tears, "You have."

"No," he sat up in and looked longingly at Kurt, "Three years ago when I left you, I forgot that promise."

"You've come back to me, haven't you?"

"I've come back to you."

* * *

**A/n: I hoped you liked it; I would really appreciate feed back on my smut, was it to formal?**


	2. 1: And They Said Politics Was Dead

**A/n: If you've gotten this far you are braver than I thought; the prologue was written as more of a general thing but this one shapes the story into what it should be. Any continuity errors please take what happens from here onward as the gospel truth, I hope you like it and can forgive the prologue.**

* * *

_Five years Later…_

Kurt sat at what had become 'their' table at high class restaurant down the road from the bar they had drank at on their first night as working lawyers; funnily enough they had all stayed close friends and colleagues, climbing the greasy pole together till they had each taken their different directions professionally leaving them as friends who broke bread and drank together every Monday.

Rachel Berry was now Rachel Berry-Rimbeau; she had dated and later married Secret Service Agent Hal Rimbeau in an elaborate ceremony, they were expecting their first child… children- twins. Rachel had matured the most out of all of them in the last five years, having a life partner had made her assess her expectations from life and make some hard decisions; she had abandoned her dream of being a partner at Anderson, Robertson and Zuckerman in favour of a new dream, cleaning up the streets for her children as a cut throat public prosecutor working under Assistant US Attorney David Rosen- this had made her the first in the group to leave the law firm. She was happily living in Georgetown, working good hours and making her husband lunch for his demanding job on the President's security detail. Time had also mellowed her intensity, both visually and in her opinions, making her a fine upstanding citizen and a great friend.

Quinn Fabray was still single; she and Tom had lasted all of two hours before she had move on, but this hadn't been a testimony to Kurt's matchmaking skills. She has since been linked to several political movers and shakers but nobody has tied the witty blonde down yet. She had been the next to leave Anderson, Robertson and Zuckerman after a messy sexual harassment suit that had paid off her student loans, mortgage and her new Merc; since resigning from her job three year ago to work on Grant campaign she has forged quite the friendship with First Lady Mellie Grant, she now works as the First Lady's Chief of Staff; her job is to make sure Mrs Grant is the wife she had planned on becoming, ironic. Quinn had done the opposite of Rachel; where Rachel had hardened to the realities of the world, Quinn had softened and become a more caring thoughtful individual. In her time as the First Lady's Chief of Staff she had worked for the betterment of life for the disadvantaged, some say being dumped as many times as she had either turned you into a stone cold bitch or Mother Theresa.

Noah had stayed at Anderson, Robertson and Zuckerman to this day, making junior partner and then soon after senior partner. He remained one of DC's most eligible bachelors; he had been linked to several models, movie stars, socialites and business executives of both genders over the years. He had rebirthed the Noah who had existed in the years between high school and college, or so he says, partying till the wee hours of the morning. He had also made a lot of money as a both a lawyer and as a shrewd investor in many internet start-ups that now had grown into multimillion dollar phenomenon's, this accounted for his luxurious and excessive lifestyle; he was known synonymously as DC's Gatsby and he love it.

That left Kurt, his marriage had been on the up since he and David had reconciled five years ago. David was working as Head Trauma Surgeon at James Madison Hospital, the best trauma centre in DC. He and David had bought an old abandoned fire house together and had refurbished into the home of their dreams together, doing part of the renovation work themselves. Kurt too had resigned after two years on the grind; he had spent a year working on the grant campaign with Quinn, Mellie and Hollis, he had then moved on to working in the family business for a year before deciding that it simply wasn't for him, his last venture had been a tenure as a political consultant and writer for the DC Journal. That is till last night when he got a call from Olivia Pope and Associates; today would be his first day working for 'The Fixer' and the beginning of the rest of his life. Kurt like to think he'd grown as well but there was no knowing with yourself; he wasn't the naïve little kid who had made his way in life with a silver spoon in his mouth, he liked to believe that he'd made something of himself no matter the size.

"Kurt," a very pregnant Rachel gave him a kiss on each cheek before slowly lowering herself into her seat with a smile, "Xander and Lexi have been kicking me like crazy today, even in court." She rubbed her stomach as she spoke, "How are you?"

"I'm alright, other than the fact that you gave both your kids the same name," Kurt shook his head at the girl, "Alexandra and Alexander, really?"

"I stick by those names," she pulled his hand onto her stomach, placing it on the top right; "This is Xander." She brought his hand to her lower left side, "And that's daddy's princess Lexi."

"I can't believe you're going to be somebody's mother," Kurt looked at his glowing friend; indeed she was no longer the girl he'd met, the wetness behind her ears was long gone and only a beautiful young lady remained, "two somebodies."

"I can't believe it either," She smiled more broadly, "Someday you'll be a parent too."

"Maybe in ten years," Kurt said in a defeated voice.

"What's happening in ten years?" Noah asked as he slid into the booth beside Kurt. Noah was still as handsome as ever, more so now in his expensive well-tailored suit.

"Kurt says he's having kids in ten years," Rachel gave him a judgemental look, "You and David have been together nineteen years; you've been married twelve years and you're not ready?"

"Our careers are very busy," Kurt spoke frankly, "David works sixty hours a week and I'm starting a new job so the last thing we want to come home to after a long day is children."

"New job?" Quinn said sitting down next to Rachel and blowing everyone kisses; she wore he blond hair shorter now but was still dressing as provocatively as she had in her twenties, "You didn't say anything about a new job."

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he smiled at his friends, "Remember how David and I recently moved into the old firehouse, right?"

"Yes," Rachel exclaimed, "I saw how much you spent refurbishing that place and it is obscene but so beautiful. It would be the perfect place to raise a whole heard of children; the school district is good, it's spacious, it's near the park and David works within walking distance."

"Exactly," Kurt says stopping her rant, "A couple of weeks ago I was walking David to work when guess who lives down the road?"

"Diane Soyer?" Rachel questioned.

"Kimberly Mitchell?" Quinn tried.

"Scarlett Johansen?" Noah proclaimed.

"Olivia Pope!" Kurt was as still excited as when it first happened, "She apparently lives in the neighbourhood, like down the road. So I start stalking her, give her my résumé and boom."

"She hired you?" Quinn asked him with wide eyes, "Shut up!"

Noah chuckled, "I guess this is your first step to the oval office." The boy planted a kiss on Kurt's cheek as they laughed, "Waiter, my friend got the best job in this city. Bring us a bottle of Dom Pérignon every five minutes till we throw up, my pregnant friend will have a bottle of Acqua di Cristallo."

"We're drinking at lunch?" Quinn tilted her spectacles forward to look her friends in the eye, "So glad I took the afternoon off."

"This will be the first time we drink since Rachel got pregnant," Kurt announced as though it were some kind of feat, he popped the cork and smiled like he was becoming reacquainted with an old friend.

"You guys were the best," Rachel said wiping tears from her eyes, "I hope I never have to find new friends because they would pale in comparison to you guys."

"Oh Rachel," Quinn nudged her shoulder, "you could pop at any moment and yet you insisted on us having our weekly get together."

"I think she wants her water to break in public," Noah said with a smirk, "then she'd have a war story for her kids."

"That would make me better than most moms," Rachel thought it over for a moment; "I'll finally get the art of adventurous birth down by the third time."

"How many kids are you planning on having?" Quinn exclaimed.

"I want at least four or five," there were stars in her eyes, "Hal thinks that three is enough but I can't be satisfied with three kids."

"You didn't even have siblings," Kurt prodded, "you don't know what a family dynamic is like."

"You were also any only child," Quinn came to Rachel's defence, "You also know nothing about being a mother, it's just something you'll never understand as a man; Rachel's gut instinct tells her that four or five will satisfy her and so it shall be."

"With five kids you'll never have a career ever again," Noah was filling everyone's glasses as he spoke, Kurt refused to dink anymore due to work commitments later in the day but smiled as his glass was filled.

"It does not!"

"Are you going to hire a Nanny?" Quinn asked her coldly.

"No, but…"

"But nothing sweetheart," Kurt sadly smiled at her, they were killing her dreams, "Between three more pregnancies, maternity leave and with an equal spacing of two years; you'll be thirty-eight when the last one is born and forty-four when they start school."

Rachel's eyes grew to the size of saucers, "And I'll be fifty-six when they finish high school, granted that isn't that much older than my dads were when I graduated."

"Do you really want to be that mom?" Quinn asked bluntly, "I personally think I've missed my window for kids, my mother was in her thirties when I finished school." Quinn paused for moment, "Oh fuck, she turned fifty this year and I forgot."

The group of friends sat laughing as they broke bread, drank Champaign and argued about everything and anything.

~0~

Kurt stood in the shaft elevator with the woman who in next to no time had become a legend in this town. Olivia Pope could do no wrong; she could solve any problem and bring you out the other side smelling like a bag of roses no matter how much of a douche you might be. In his time working in this city he had come to revere the name and respect the woman behind it. The diminutive woman had a large and intimidating presence in any room she entered; commanding the attention of all.

The doors opened to a simplistic well designed office space, "Meeting in the boardroom now." Olivia, she'd insisted against Miss Pope, announced with the authority of someone twice her height. They entered the bare board room and there were three people waiting, Kurt had to admit that it was anticlimactic after working at a very large and successful law firm; they were greeted by two men and a woman. Kurt took in the boardroom; a large table with chairs and nothing more other than the pictures that filled the window.

"New client?" the tall striking redhead asked looking a little bit confused, she gave him a look over and stared him down before smiling politely but not genuinely, "I thought we were working on the infamous Lindsey Dwyer case and that it took top priority."

"No, that still takes top priority," Olivia turned to Kurt and smiled, she seemed more genuine in her smile but there seemed to be a lot behind it, "This is Kurt Hummel, he works here now."

"I wasn't aware that we were hiring," a short handsome mocha skinned gentleman in a sharp suit spoke first after what seemed to be a shocking announcement for the team, his voice was low and gravely but he lowered it further to a whisper before carrying on, "Who is this?"

"Hi, I'm Kurt Hummel," He smiled and extended a hand but his enthusiasm wasn't met with even a flutter of indifference.

"I don't care," the man said abruptly, he turned to Olivia and engaged her in a whispered conversation. Olivia clearly didn't think it was necessary to defend her choice to hire him, the man turned on Kurt next, "What makes you think you have what it takes to work here? What makes you worthy to call yourself a Gladiator? Are you a _Gladiator in a Suit_?"

"I am a _Gladiator in a Suit_," Kurt pursed his lips and held the man's eye contact, "And as for 'worthiness' of this job, I'll let you be the judge of that but I know I am more than sufficiently qualified; I graduated in the top one percentile for Political Science, Law and my PhD in Law at Yale; I have experience practicing the Law at Anderson, Robertson and Zuckerman- the firm were the current First Lady was a named partner; I did vetting and legal consulting for the Washington Post for a while; I've consulted on several small campaigns and have managed to get multiple candidates into public office and congress."

"Stephen is gone and Quinn is indisposed," Olivia said looking each of them in the eye, she spoke with concisely and did not falter in getting her point across, "we need the extra man power and Kurt is more than qualified, Huck can vouch for that as he personally vetted him. My gut says that he's what we need right now."

"Harrison Wright," Kurt smiled but the man didn't smile back, choosing instead to scowl at him, "I know who you are, stay out of my way because I don't have the time nor the patience to teach you how to do your job."

"Abby," She presented him with a pseudo-smile that barely passed for gas pains before presenting him with a dose of shocking news, "Don't pay too much attention to the sour puss, his previous partner turned out to be multi-murderer."

"Huck," the scraggly looking man said before retreating to a cove of computers without as much as a handshake.

"Kurt, you and Abby will be working the first case," Olivia placed a picture of a middle aged man that made Kurt cringe and his intestines ran cold, "Senator Albert Bartholomew Wilhelm James Hummel."

"Any relation?" Abby asked looking from the balding man to Kurt.

"That is my father," Kurt said hanging his head for a moment; he wondered if this was the reason he got the job, "Why is he seeking crisis management?"

"He's getting married and he wants us to handle the press around his engagement to Ohio's local widowed nurse Carole Hudson," Olivia said pointing to the pair, "I want you to dig up everything there is to know about this woman, her past, her family, her intentions and their relationship."

"My father doesn't know I work here," Kurt mused to himself, "I was going to tell him at dinner this evening and I guess he was going to tell me he's getting married."

~0~

"I've never been to Ohio, my dad has lived here since I was eleven but we either saw each other on the ranch or on vacation," Kurt said as he and Abby navigated the small town grid; Kurt could feel the Midwestern air wreaking havoc on his skin, "I'd never heard of Lima before moved here dad and started dating this woman. I met her son once, he teaches at William McKinley High School, so let's speak to him first."

"You can't speak to him," Abby said stopping Kurt in his tracks, "He's sure to recognise you and that might complicate the investigation."

"Do I wait in the car?" Kurt was a little crushed by the request; he had hoped to prove himself by cracking this case in next to no time but here he was being sent to the car like a misbehaving child.

"You go to the hospital and ask around about Carole," She laid her hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry, your dad's email said that she's not there. Don't probe too far with your questions, it makes people uneasy and more likely to mention the encounter."

Kurt nodded his head in agreement, accepting her wisdom. He hopped into the rental car and drove slowly through the grid pattern roads till he came to the hospital in his notes, Lima Presbyterian Hospital. He got out of the car, took regular uniform steps and tried not to draw any attention to himself. He smiled at the receptionist and flirted with her a little, he flashed his dazzling smile and expired press pass before asking to be directed to the nurse's station Carole worked at. He navigated the halls and climbed the stairs till he came to the paediatric ward where she worked.

"Hi, I was hoping for a minute of your time," Kurt smiled endearingly at the older lady, "Carole Hudson, do you know her?"

"As a matter of fact I do, she's not in but I could tell her you came by," she gave him a coffee stained smiled.

"Oh, no ma'am," Kurt spoke in his often repressed southern accent for its charm, "I was hoping to find out some about her, I'm Rupert Grint and I'm a friend of her son Finn. Finn wants to do something special for his momma but he don't have the time between teaching and all, so he asked me to help. I don't know Carole very well so I thought maybe you folk that with may have something to share."

"Oh, bless Finn's soul," the woman clasped her chest and smiled, "Valerie Forsyth, at your service. You know if anybody deserves good things, it is Carole."

"How so?" Kurt asked with a smile, "If you don't mind my asking."

"Well, she raised that son of hers all by herself after her husband passed," Kurt leaned in closer as Valerie lowered her voice, "She worked every night, went home to wake her son up and get him ready for school and was back to work the day shift; if you ever needed it, she would cover your shift no matter the day, even Christmas and Thanksgiving, just not her baby's birthday. You would never hear her complain about Christopher, her deceased husband."

"Why would she complain about him," Kurt could tell that she was willing to tell him everything and all he had to do was show her he was willing to listen.

"Well, after he got kicked out of the army he developed a bit of drug problem and that was what killed him," She was stage whispering at this point, "But she never spoke ill of him, she let her son think he was a hero. That's just how good a person she is; never hurt a fly, she is so good with the kids and she always wears a smile no matter how things are financially."

"That sounds like a truly amazing woman," Kurt said with a sigh of relief, "I wonder why nobody has snatched her up."

"She is dating that nice mechanic Senator," Valerie said with a smile, "He is very handsome and she is so much happier now, before she never dated because she said her time was Finn's time."

"What do you think would make her truly happy," Kurt suddenly remembered his cover and knew that he'd gathered all he could without raising suspicion.

"Oh, I think she's as happy as any woman can be," Valerie smiled, "All she needs now is some relaxation time, she works so hard helping Finn pay off his student loans."

"Thank you for your time," he smiled and winked at the elderly lady, "I hope I can count on your discretion."

"Of course sweetheart," she winked back.

Kurt's phone had been vibrating in his pocket for a while, he pulled it out and answered as he made his way to the car, "Kurt Hummel, How'd you do?"

"Kurt?" Abby seemed confused, "Why are you speaking in a southern accent? And why are you so good at it?"

Kurt dropped the accent, "People find it charming and are more willing to open up to you."

"Whatever," Kurt could hear her rolling her eyes at him, "Come get me from the school, I've gotten more than enough here."

Kurt sped through the town and collected Abby, "I learnt that the woman is a saint; she works hard to support her son, she was the perfect mother, she's good with kids and used to work Thanksgiving and Christmas so that sweet old ladies could see their grandchildren."

"Her son seems spotless," Abby scrunched up her face, "Not very bright but he seems to be an upstanding citizen."

"There are two things that just don't fit right now," Kurt said solemnly, "Her deceased husband, the drug abuser who was kicked out of the military, and her look."

"I get how her husband can be an issue," Abby nodded her head, "but what does she look like?" Kurt couldn't possibly put it in words so he pulled out his iPhone and showed her a picture, "Oh god, we need to work on that."

~0~

Kurt kicked off his shoes and bounced onto the bed where his husband was laying, "Meet my friend Davey, He was in the Navy and his hair is wavy."

"Did you have a good first day?" David leaned up and kissed Kurt gently on the lips.

"The best, my colleagues think I'm incompetent and my dad was my first client," Kurt straddled the larger man and leaned down to kiss his neck, "Why do you have morning breathe in the evening?"

"I've been sleeping all day," David pulled Kurt in for another kiss, "I cracked someone's chest this morning and performed a repair on a severed aorta, in the process I saved a woman's ability to walk."

"But you couldn't brush your teeth for your exhausted husband's return from work? I'm just teasing baby boo." Kurt smiled as he pulled his lovers shirt over his broad shoulders, "I don't mean to be a tease but we have to freshen up for dinner with my dad, either we go to dinner smelling homeless and I finish what I've started," Kurt traced hearts into the man's chest as he whispered in his ear, "Or we could finish this in the shower."

David smiled, lifted Kurt, threw him over his shoulder and bolted for their en-suit bathroom, "I know what I want," they entered their spacious shower fully clothed and ran both shower heads, "And I want you, you big tease."

Kurt felt himself pinned against shower wall as David planted hungry kisses on his delicate flesh, desperately ripping off his wet clothes. Kurt let out a sharp moan as David nibbled on the delicate skin below his ear, he knew that it would leave a mark but couldn't bring himself to care as he clawed off his husbands flannel pyjama bottoms. Kurt dropped to his knees before the magnificent specimen he had the joy of spending his days with, he grabbed his husband's impressive male organ and brought it to lips. Kurt pealed back the foreskin and twirled his tongue around the swollen pink head, teasing the man for a moment. Slowly the enlarged member entered his mouth, he applied steady suction as he allowed it to enter his throat; he began a slow steady rhythm, just the way David liked it, he felt a large hand running thick fingers through his sopping wet hair and he could hear David's nails scraping across the wall tiles.

Kurt his husband's breathe speed up as he worshipped the man's penis with his mouth, "Oh God, I'm so close, Kurt." Kurt lengthened his bobbing and teased the head with his tongue and throat as he pleasured his husband, "Oh Fancy, oh Fancy Face!" David's voice was deep and hoarse as he exclaimed his ejaculation; Kurt swallowed his lover's seed without a second thought before rising to his feet and planting a sloppy kiss on his husband's waiting mouth.

Kurt felt his back make contact with the wall once more as a trail of kisses found David on his knees, Kurt felt himself flipped over and the cold tiles made contact with his bare chest. Kurt felt his buttocks being separated and the gentle tracing of a finger around his sphincter as warm water trickled over it. He felt David's tongue tracing his hole and he let out a giggle of glee as it sent a pulse through his body; David kissed his sphincter and tickled it with a light nipping of his teeth causing Kurt to moan with pleasure. Kurt could feel the man's tongue entering his hole and a white hot feeling of pleasure consumed him as his husband worshipped his body with his hands. Kurt was in heaven as he felt his heart rate increase and his pupils dilated with ecstasy as he shot his load onto the white tiles.

David rose to his feet and planted a hungry kiss on Kurt's neck; he turned Kurt to face him, lifted and bent him, resting long slender alabaster legs on his shoulders and positioned the monstrous member at Kurt's opening. Kurt felt the pain of initial penetration, it was shortly followed by the intense pleasure of being filled by the man he loved; David kissed and sucked at his neck furiously, obviously aiming to leave him marked as his own, Kurt was on a similar wavelength as he clawed at his husband's muscular back in time to the lovemaking.

"Dave, oh David, David yes!" Kurt exclaiming as he experienced an insane amount of pleasure as David held onto the wall on either side of his head and steadily caressed his prostate with his throbbing organ; his equally pleased penis was pleasured consistently by the friction between their active bodies, David's goody trail added an interesting texture to the mix. Kurt was overwhelmed with pleasure; his muscles tightened, his breathe shortened and he dug his nails into David's strong shoulders as his second orgasm washed over him, "David! Alexander! Rodrick! Karofsky!"

"I'm cumming too Fancy," David exclaimed as his knees buckled and they collapsed to the floor, Kurt felt the twitching instrument shoot deep into his anal cavity, "Oh, Fancy."

Kurt took in a couple of breaths as the warm water washed over their bodies. After what seemed to be an eternity on the floor, David's flaccid member plopped out and the larger boy got to his feet and pulled Kurt along with him, "Let's cancel on Dinner with your dad," David kissed Kurt passionately on the lips, the hunger was gone and only love remained, "We could spend the night trying to catch up on the last six years of Grey's Anatomy."

"You hate Grey's Anatomy," Kurt said as he soaped the boy's hairy chest, "I seem to remember you claiming that doctors don't have that much sex or hair that good."

"Not all doctors get to come home to you," The boy started soaping Kurt up in return, "you keep my hair silky, soft and shiny."

"You make me sound like off brand two-in-one shampoo and conditioner," Kurt smiled as he lathered a generous amount of shampoo into his lover's hair.

"You are so much more than that," David kissed Kurt's nose, "Should I count the ways I love thee?"

"You could try but we'd miss out dinner engagement," Kurt slapped the boy's butt and pointed him out of the shower, "Brush your teeth and get dressed."

"Fancy, you know your dad doesn't like me," David tried to pout his way out of the appointment but Kurt held his ground.

"Maybe if you engaged him," Kurt said giving his husband a disapproving look, "Invite him to watch football with you, ask him to go hiking with you, offer him a blowjob or do anything but act like a stranger."

"I'm not sucking your dad's dick," David sprayed foam on the mirror, "We've been together for nineteen years and I still call him sir, three weeks after we became 'friends' my father insisted you call him Paul."

"I'm just more likable than you are," Kurt said spitting out his mouthful of toothpaste.

"So you admit he doesn't like me!"

"No," Kurt smiled a villainous smile as they invaded each other's personal space, "I brought your father muffins and I hustled great Dodgers' tickets for him."

"So you bought my dad off," David shook his head between light kisses.

"No more," Kurt spoke firmly, "Stop trying to use sex to get out of tonight because even if I have to fuck you into the car, we are going."

"Is it wrong that I'm turned on by the prospect of that," David raised a seductive brow.

"So wrong," Kurt said as he lathered his moisturiser onto his pale skin.

"What is the reason of this dinner anyway?" David asked from their walk in closet.

"He missed us dearly," Kurt said omitting the fact that it was probably an announcement of his father's engagement.

"So you're not telling," David said pulling on a pair of sharp black loafers to match the three-piece Lagerfeld suit Kurt had bought for him, "Fine, I might be inappropriately dressed."

"You are so gay," Kurt shook his head as he straightened his husband's black skinny tie and helping him with his cufflinks, "But it looks good on you."

"You know you love it," David said as he reciprocated the favour, "you love me for my gayness."

"I thought it was your body and dimples I loved you for," Kurt kissed David on the cheek before checking himself out in the mirror; he looked impeccable in his own black Armani three-piece suit and black bow tie, "Let's go before we're late."

"I don't wanna!" David moaned as they walked down the stairs from their spacious luxurious loft to the large garage, "But if I have to, I'm driving."

"What are you? Twelve?" Kurt knew his husband was feigning the sulking but when it came to his driving he wasn't willing to simply accept the man's request, "I drive, I seem to remember it being my turn."

"I seem to remember not caring," the man got into his convertible, started the engine and played vintage Donna Summer.

"You know very well that I can't resist Donna Summer but your car is going to kill my hair, Do you want me to be unbelievably hideous? Because that's what this car ride will do to me," Kurt whined as he got into the passenger's seat of the silver two-seater and buckled himself in. They raced through the empty night streets as David felt his might behind the wheel of his Italian sports car, "Why did I do this to myself?"

"Next time think your birthday gifts through carefully," David said with a hearty chuckle as the wind whipped through their hair, ruining Kurt's hard work.

"No more Ferrari's for you," Kurt shouted over the noise of rushing air, "I've had quite enough of perfect hair day being turned into bad hair days."

"I wanted a monster truck next anyway," David tussled Kurt's hair with a devilish smile. They pulled into the valet station and David opened the glove compartment and handed Kurt a hair brush, "I still think your beautiful, Fancy Face."

"You're so good to me," Kurt said planting a kiss on the man's forehead before turning his attention to the rear-view mirror, "Give me a moment to make myself pretty again."

They disembarked and entered the restaurant arm in arm; they quickly located the table his father, Carole and apparently Finn were occupying.

"Kurt, Dr Karofsky," Kurt smiled as he hugged his father, Kissed Carole and shook Finn's hand; he noted that his father gave David a cold handshake which earned the elder man a disapproving look, "It's great to see you again."

"Daddy," Kurt took his seat between his father and David, "How are you? How is the life of a Senator? Enjoying 'residing' in Ohio?"

"I'm two ticks better now that you're here Kurt, The senate is a very interesting place to be, a third of the senate is due to seek re-election and is suddenly serving someone other than themselves," His father touched his nose with his index finger, "And as for Ohio; it isn't the ranch, that's for sure."

"Ohio is your home again," Carole said clasping his arm with guffaw that drew Kurt's attention to the pink taffeta mess of a dress, "It's where you grew up."

"Texas will always have a special place in our hearts," Kurt smiled sweetly, "You know I might not have lived on the ranch in a long time but it will always be my home; I guess the same can be said for you and Ohio. Speaking of homes; David and I recently moved into a new home."

"Oh wow," His dad pretended to be interested in his marriage, "Tell us more."

"David found it," Kurt stared his father down and kept his smile securely in place, "You should really be asking him but first let's go pick a bottle of wine."

His father looked confused, "They have a waiter for that."

"I know but if you go to the bar they have samples and I know you can't blindly pick a good wine," Kurt shook his head toward the bar, "Now."

His father excused himself and followed him to the bar, "What's going on?"

"I don't like the way you treat my husband," Kurt was blunt with his father, "I don't know what you're problem is with him but I love him and that should mean something to you."

"I don't know what you mean," His father said as he blindly ordered the finest bottles of red and white wine to suit their pre-ordered meals.

"Don't demean me by playing stupid," Kurt shook his head at the man, "You called him 'Dr Karofsky'; does it get more detached than that? You make him call you 'sir' and you always wanted someone to go to football, basketball and sundry with you yet you've alienated my willing husband."

"He doesn't respect me," His father said suddenly, "He just asked you to marry him and never asked for my permission, what kind of man does that."

"Firstly; I'm not a girl, he doesn't need to ask for my hand." Kurt was fuming by this point but kept his voice low, "Secondly; I asked him to marry me."

"Oh I always thought..." His father's voice trailed off, "I guess I didn't think..."

"I know exactly what you thought and I am so disappointed in you," Kurt dug into his pocket and pulled out three tickets, "These are courtside tickets to the Mavericks vs. Bulls game, I heard Noah say that was a big deal, you will take my husband and you will be civil."

"Just because I misunderstood the circumstances doesn't mean we're going to click," his father took the tickets, "but for you I'll try till I'm blue in the face, I'm so sorry."

"Fine," They shook hands on the matter and returned to the table with smiles at the ready as the appetizers were being served.

They found David engaged in an intense conversation with Carole on their work as healthcare professional, they easily slipped back into their seats, "You were saying about your new home."

"Oh, I found this old firehouse near the hospital and I knew that Kurt would work wonders on it," David took a large gulp of water for nerves, "It had everything he ever wanted in a home; high ceilings, a large living area, lots of rooms and a yard the size of a small country."

"That sounds pretty cool," Finn said as he wolfed down his spinach ravioli, "Just like Christina and Hunt in Grey's Anatomy."

"Oh god Finn! Spoiler Alert?" Kurt and David groaned.

"What?" Finn seemed deeply perplexed by their reaction, "That was like three or so seasons ago."

"We're still on season four," Kurt exclaimed trying not to claw his eyes out.

"You just ruined our Sunday mornings," David moaned, "Now we'll have to go to church."

"That does sounds quite lovely," Carole tilted her head as she spoke, clearly changing the subject, "It'll be perfect for when you two have kids."

"Oh," David chuckled and held onto Kurt's hand tightly, "that's still a long while off."

"Our careers are still at fragile point where pulling back would only hurt us in the long run," Kurt spoke in support of his husband.

"Kurt and I spent all our free time for the last three years turning that firehouse into a home for ourselves," David said sweetly leaning into Kurt, "It was a lot of hard work, you should come by and see it Sir."

"Burt," His father corrected, "now tell me Dr Karofsky; that will never get old, my son married a surgeon; are you a Bulls fan?"

"I am from Chicago," David answered sceptically, he shot Kurt a questioning look which he returned with an encouraging nod "That and the fact that they're the best in the game."

"Easy David," Kurt's gaze met his father's for a moment, "Daddy's a Dallas Mavericks fan and might be touched by that comment."

"We'll see at their next game, I have three tickets and one of them has loser written on it," Kurt watched his father playing nice; "I guess that makes it yours, Finn you should come too."

Finn took a break from his appetizer to let out a quick "Sure," with his mouth full of chewed spinach before returning to the remnants of what was once ravioli.

"Oh wow," David looked like he'd had the breath knocked out of him, "Well, prepare to be converted because we never lose at home."

As their appetisers plates were being collected; Kurt watched his father rise to his feet before sinking down on to one knee, "This was supposed to happen later in the evening but the anxiety might cause me to have a second heart attack; Caroline Frida Hudson, here in front of the people who mean the most in our lives," His father looked over their surprised faces and opened the blue Tiffany's box to reveal a large traditional cut diamond set in rose gold, "would you do me the honour of becoming my wife and life partner?"

"Albert Bartholomew Wilhelm James Hummel, the seventh," she chuckled after saying all his names, "I would be honoured to wake-up next to you for the rest of my life."

"Congratulations Dad, Carole," Kurt smiled at his father, "I wish you a marriage as long and prosperous as my own."

"Thank you sweetheart," Carole smiled broadly at the Hummel men.

"I'm so happy for you, mom." Finn said hugging his mother, "you deserve happiness."

"We should go on a celebratory shopping trip, It'll give us something to do whilst they're off watching basketball tomorrow." Kurt spoke only to Carole as his mind returned to work, David's pager went off, "You're on call?"

"I'm not," He held his arms up in surrender knowing that it would upset Kurt if he hadn't prioritised their dinner engagement, "It's a nine-one-one."

"Call them back," Burt said firmly, "Someone's life might be at stake."

"On the lighter side of things," Kurt said snapping his fingers to draw attention to himself, "I got a new job as a Political Consultant and Junior Associate at Olivia Pope and Associates."

"That's great," Burt exclaimed, "Waiter, bring a bottle of Vodka with that Champaign."

"Since when do we drink Vodka to celebrate anything?" Kurt asked curiously.

"Since my vacation to Poland," His father smiled and turned to a returning David, "Isn't that tradition in your culture?"

"Yes, indeed it's a Polish tradition," David kissed Kurt's temple, "A twelve year old was impaled by a lamppost and I need to go to surgery, I am so sorry Fancy."

"Lives don't save themselves, take the car, dad will drop me off." Kurt said shaking his head dismissively, Kurt raised his shot glass and proclaimed; "Za Tych, Co Nie Mogą!"

"Your pronunciation is still a bit off," David kissed Kurt goodbye and waved to the group, "Congratulations to the couple and I'm sorry I've ruined your evening."

Kurt's phone went off just as their entrées were being served, "Kurt Hummel, hello."

"We have a new client," Abby's voice came through the receiver, "Meet us on the hill in five minutes."

"Daddy," Kurt put on his sweetest smile, "I have to go, I'm new and I can't bail. Bye guys, have fun without us."

~0~

"I brought everybody coffee," Kurt handed them all paper Starbucks cups with their names scribbled on the side, "Apparently you guys get so much coffee from this particular Starbucks that the barista knows your order sequence; she wrote your names on the cups and her number on mine."

"You are heaven sent and bearing coffee; looking sharp Kurt," Abby teased as they navigated the halls of the Capitol Building, "Did you have a hot date? Oh, there will be others."

Kurt laughed at the idea of joining a dating pool he had no experience in, "I'm married, I don't do hot dates and there will be no one else."

"So married people just look all spiffy?" Abby probed, "I don't remember that part of it."

"Keep up, we had dinner with my dad," Kurt snapped his fingers at her, "He proposed to the badly dressed saint, tomorrow you and I are taking her shopping in the afternoon, for a minor makeover. Now tell me why are we here?"

"We were summoned," Kurt was confused by Olivia's statement, "By Congressman Shaw of the Great State of Rhode Island."

"Olivia Pope," the handsome young Congressman shook her hand, "I was hoping I would never have to meet you in a professional capacity."

"Congressman Shaw," Olivia seemed quite displeased by his failed attempt at flattery and flirtation, "What seems to be the problem."

"My desk clock stopped," he said garnering an appalled look from Olivia.

"Good thing we came," Olivia's voice was dripping with sarcasm as she spoke.

"I was changing the battery when I found this," he held up a small device that seemed to pique Huck's interest.

The scraggly man started off on a tirade of technical jargon that meant nothing to Kurt, he finally came to a conclusion that was actually in English, "Somebody's been watching you."

"Do you have any enemies who would want to catch you doing something improper?" Olivia asked him calmly.

"Name anyone in this town who doesn't," Kurt was tempted to raise his hand but thought against it, "Any member of the Republican Party who wishes our cause ill could have put that in here, or even a member of the Democratic Party who wants to shave points off me on the house floor could have planted that camera."

Olivia started firing off questions about potential political misconduct but she wasn't asking the right questions, "Have you done anything illegal in this office?"

Kurt decided to take it upon himself to ask the burning question; "Jacob Louis Shaw, did you have sex in this office?"

"Kurt?" the man was surprised to see him, Kurt felt himself pulled into a hug and a chaste kiss on his lips, "You work for Olivia Pope? Since when?"

"I started this morning," Kurt and the man giggled together as they held their embrace, "You would know that if the great state of Rhode Island didn't keep you too busy to call every now and again."

"What happened to being married?" Abby asked him with a sly smirk.

"Coby and I went to college together," Kurt said in an effort to unsubstantiated any qualms she may have toward their friendship, "we were roommates actually."

"Where you squashed me in the race for top spot, then again in Law School and then again when we were interviewing for jobs," he smiled and nudged Kurt's shoulder, "Then you got me this job, Kurt ran my campaign flawlessly. It was only a matter of time before you and Ms Pope either went head to head or paired up to take over the world."

"Where exactly did you have sex Congressman Shaw," Olivia asked him ignoring the comparison between Kurt and herself, "Was it on the couch, the floor."

"On this desk!" He said solemnly, causing Abby to jump off the desk she'd been leaning up against as if bitten.

"You've always had more balls than brains," Kurt shook his finger at the man, "And this is the second time it's my problem."

"Please don't say 'Couchagedon' because I will kick you out of my office," the man said laughing loudly.

"You know what you did!" Kurt sneered.

"Okay," Olivia turned to her group of associates, "Huck I want you to try find out who was recording him or who was given the recording to take it public so that we can nip this in the bud. Kurt, Abby; I want you to start by gathering everything there is to know about Congressman Shaw, every skeleton in his closet and start working on damage control; Abby, you're in charge. Harrison and I will stay on the Lindsey Dwyer case."

"Kurt, I hope you're ready." Abby smiled at him, and shook her head slowly, "Working two cases on your first day; we'll get to find out the extent and power of your all seeing political mind; this is going to be the hardest forty-eight hours of your life."

"At least I have nothing to hurry off to this time," Kurt got his head into gear and pushed his friendship with the Congressman to the back of his head before turning to their client, "Who is the woman? Is she a hooker? Is there anything politically compromising about a sexual relations with her?"

"Way to slash your friend's throat open and feed on his insides," Abby looked bewildered by the transition from friends who kiss on the lips to the cold machine that was asking the hard questions.

"Kurt has always been judgemental of my sex life," The congressman chuckled at the clinically vacant expression on his friend's face, "He's trying not to judge me and as such is detaching himself from the questions. Did I get you right?"

"You got me perfectly but you haven't answered any of my questions," Kurt tilted his head and falsified a smile, "Answer my questions so I can do my job."

"To my knowledge; our relations were completely in the clear, just two single adults engaging in coitus." Abby raised a brow at the statement, "I stand by my use of the word coitus. No, she is not a hooker nor is she an escort or any other innuendo for a sex worker; she's a partner at Frey and Kimble, her name Jennifer Price."

Kurt gave the man a piercing look, "where'd you meet her? How long have you known her? Have you verified that facts?"

"Like are you sure her name isn't Glitter," Abby added leaning over the desk inquisitively before remembering it's part and retreating just as the congressman was enjoying the view it provided.

"I met her tonight at a fundraiser at the Smithsonian, she was quite conversational and good looking," He threw himself in his chair and spun around letting out a sigh, "I don't vet the woman I sleep with."

"That might ultimately be your down fall," Abby shook her head judgementally which caused Kurt to nudge her in the ribs, "How did you two end up in your office?"

"We were talking about my job in congress and the work I do when she mentioned that she'd never been to the Capitol Building," Kurt and Abby exchanged knowing looks, "I invited her here and I initiated the relations."

"Oh Kurt," Abby said in her falsetto impression of a bimbo, "I've never been to Paris, also I'm very horny."

"And to Paris we go!" Kurt imitated his friend's speech which earned him a chuckle; he stiffened and looked Jacob in the eye, "Do you suspect her of setting you up?"

"No," The congressman took a deep breath and steadied himself, "I do not."

"Do you often have sex with woman in your office?" Kurt looked at Abby as she stared the man down, waiting for a response, "Are there multiple sex tapes out there?"

The congressman spoke with an air of seriousness for the first time that evening, "No, never before have I had sex in this office. Not once have I abused this office for personal gain."

"Except tonight?" Abby asked cautious of his apparent short fuse.

"Except tonight."

~0~

Kurt smiled at the petit elderly man at the reception desk of Frey and Kimble, "Good morning sir, we'd like to see Jennifer Price."

The man looked over his spectacles at the pair, "I'm afraid it might not be a good morning," the man spoke in ashen high voice that was vacant of all emotion, "I see that she doesn't have a nine o'clock; so no, you may not see her."

"It's in her best interest to see us," Abby slammed her fist on the curved desk and stared down the short man, "We represent Olivia Pope, so you better go and get her you Beverly Leslie wannabe!"

Kurt gawked at her, she simply shrugged, "No, you don't get to shrug after scaring Mary, Jesus and God out of that poor little man."

"All in a day's work," the startled man ushered them to Jennifer's office door before scurrying away with his tale between legs. Kurt had to admit that that was a powerful display of authority and obviously it had done the job.

"Good morning," Jennifer was an average height young woman who would have fallen under the category of slutty corporate due to the bedroom eyes she applied a large amount of make-up to accentuate. She smiled and behaved quite amiably, "Please come in, you will have to forgive me but I'm not quite sure to what this visit pertain?

"Do you know Congressman Shaw?" Abby went straight for the jugular, she didn't smile at the woman nor did she lead her into a false sense of security. There was silence in the room as the ladies squared up; the first to talk would lose the power in this conversation.

"I'm acquainted with him, yes," Jennifer avoided making eye contact from this point forward as a red tinge rose from the base of her neck.

"You had sex with him last night, is that correct?" Kurt asked her referring to his leather bound journal, "You had sex with him in his office, is that correct?"

"Yes, I had sex with him," Jennifer's ears had turned red at this point, "in his office."

"Were you the one who planted the recording device?" Kurt was jotting down notes of her behaviour and speech patterns for later assessment.

"Recording device?" Her eyes turned to saucers and her breath shortened, "What recording device?"

"Were you aware you were being recorded?" Kurt asked ignoring her emotive reaction, "And please refrain from answering with a question this time."

"I didn't know we were being recorded," she sat down in her chair and took deep breaths between blasphemous proclamations of "Oh my god."

"If it makes you feel any better," Abby looked like she was in pain as she forced a smile, "From the angle of the camera your face is probably out of the shot."

"Did he know?" she asked in a shocked state.

"He didn't know till after the matter," Abby said with what Kurt hoped was a reassuring smile, "We're trying to snub its release but it's not looking good."

~0~

"What do we know about the Congressman Shaw case?" Olivia asked; she was leaning on the boardroom table, facing the grid of slanted windows.

"Congressman Jacob Shaw," Abby stuck his picture at the top window of the middle column, "Single, First term congressman born and raised in the great state of Rhode Island, graduated second in his class at Yale law. He's trying to make a name for himself on the hill, but he's a little too pretty for the party elite to take him seriously."

"He meets Jenifer Price, a thirty-five year old" Kurt took the baton and ran with it, "at a fundraiser at the Smithsonian; she was wearing an Armani skirt suit, mid-height heels with tasteful cleavage. She's not a hooker; she's a junior partner at Frey and Kimble."

"Nice touch on the judgemental hooker business," Abby said high fiving him, "And she had nothing to do with the sextape, in fact she was mortified to hear of it; practically had an angina attack."

"She likes the congressman's work so much that she still wants to make the maximum personal contribution to his campaign," Kurt smiled at the man and shook his head, "She is a registered Democrat but I wonder if the congressman isn't whoring himself out."

"Kurt!" Olivia looked mortified by what he was insinuating, he was ultimately saved from her scrutinous glare by Huck.

"I looked through a lot of the DC gossip blogs and one called 'Capital Spill' just bought a bunch of bandwidth," Huck smiled, it was tortured and small but self-assured.

"The right wing blog?" The congressman looked confused, "What does that mean?"

"It means they're expecting a lot of eyes," Harrison barely looked up from his newspaper to add that comment.

Olivia spoke flatly, "it means they're going to air your dirty laundry to promote their right wing values; it also means we have a publisher to harangue with legal injunctions. Harrison, get on it. Abbey and Kurt, I want you two to start working on the potential aftermath of this sex tape's release."

"How are we spinning this?" Abby asked Olivia, she seemed to think about it for a moment before pointing to Kurt, "Kurt?"

"He's supposed to be amongst the world's greatest political geniuses," She smiled, "don't disappoint me."

"Okay, let's start by lining up interviews; both printed and televised," Kurt looked to the ceiling as he assimilated the situation, "Big names in general not politically, we want this to reach all the people. You do televised and I'll do printed."

"What do you mean by 'not political'?" Abby pressed as she pulled out her phone, "He's a politician."

"Get me David Letterman, Piers Morgan, pull Oprah out of retirement," he had his phone in hand at this point, "I don't want a whiff of Kimberly Mitchell till we get to the second wave of interviews."

"Second wave?"

"It's going to be big," He started heading for the door, "Keep with me, we have an appointment."

"What?" She looked gravely uncomfortable with the cloud of mystery that surrounded Kurt's behaviour, "With whom?"

"Kurt, this is a lovely place you work in," he smiled at Carole as he hugged her and introduced her to Abby.

"Is the driver still waiting downstairs?"

"Yes," She dusted his shoulder in a maternal manner that made Kurt deeply uncomfortable, "I don't know why we're doing this though, I don't need new clothes."

"Carole, I need to make an important phone call," He smiled falsely as they stood in the elevator, both him and Abby were on the phone which made for an idle Carole.

'Quinn Fabray, Hello.'

"Quinny," Kurt was happy to hear her voice after a long twenty four hours, "How are you love?"

'I'm good, what's it like working for Olivia Pope?'

"I now know why David was so prissy about his long hours," he got into the waiting town car, "This isn't a social call though."

'It never is these days.'

"I need a favour, are you still tight with those gossip bloggers and journalists?" he waited for affirmation.

'I am still the First Lady's chief of staff, what's your beef?'

"I need you to have them on call for a press conference on the Capitol steps at half past twelve tomorrow."

'You going to tell me what's going on?'

"If I tell you, you'll tell Noah and Rachel which will effectively kill my story."

'Oh, you owe me so big. This is the second favour in as many days.'

"Have them waiting for my word, I will send flowers."

'No flowers, we are going hunting this afternoon.'

"Why can't you just settle down with one of the many men I've set you up with?" Kurt rolled his eyes at the thought of having to surround himself with single heterosexuals for the rest of the evening, "I've been setting you up since day one."

'You know you love it.'

"Bye bitch," Kurt got out of the large sedan and entered the high-end boutique.

"Kurt, I can't afford anything here," Carole was sceptical to enter the elite clothing store.

"My treat," he rolled his eyes as he handed the store clerk his credit card and a nondisclosure agreement, "Julie, I need a series of elegant suits, both casual and formal dresses and heels; if I see flats I will die. Channel Alicia Florrick from The Good Wife and Elaine Barrish from Political Animals."

"Okay, Abby smiled at him, "I know a guy who has Jimmy Kimmel on hold for us, Oprah said no, Piers Morgan said he'd love to but he hasn't got a fuck to give."

"And David Letterman?"

"I'm still going to call him."

Kurt pulled out his phone and started dialling, he was calling Rachel and got her voicemail, "Hey Rachel, it's Kurt, I need you to call your brood of reporters and tell them to be on call for a press conference tomorrow after lunch at the Capitol. Thanks a mill."

"Kurt," Carole was wearing a navy Chanel suit with black kitten heels, "Sweetheart, this isn't at all comfortable."

"It's a suit," Kurt rolled his eyes, "Not skinny jeans, it's a timeless piece."

"Ms Hudson," Abby shot Kurt a disapproving look to which he simply shrugged off, "You look great."

"Please sweetheart," Carole seemed to be preening at the compliment as she went back into try on something new, "Call me Carole."

Kurt was busy reading up on past political sex scandals on his phone, too busy to notice Carole trying on garment after garment. His phone buzzed and he got to his feet, "Give her something to walk out in, we'll take it all."

"What's the hurry?" Abby asked him, she seemed to be enjoying Carole's company, "I thought this afternoon was set aside for this case."

"We do," Kurt through on his coat and held the door open for the pair as they left their purchase to be delivered to Carole's hotel room, "We have a hair appointment."

"Hair?" Carole asked as the car took off.

"Yes, nothing says celebrate like snipping a few inches off the bottom." Kurt's phone started vibrating, he held up a finger to hold the conversation, "Kurt Hummel, hello."

'You want me to call a press conference at the Capitol? What for, may I ask?'

"Hi Rachel," Kurt ushered Abby to engage Carole, "How are you? How is pregnancy?"

'I'm well, Xander and Lexie are doing great as well, growing by the day. I'm due to pop the same week as First Lady Mellie Grant.'

"The press conference," Kurt let out a huffed breathe, "You aren't hosting, just mention that it may be happening and that they should wait for my word, can you do that much?"

'No need to speak to me like I'm a dolt, I will relay the message.'

"Thank you," he smiled as he sat Carole in a styling chair, "Are you free for hunting this afternoon? Quinn's making me go."

'Oh, I'm busy with a case. I'm going to hang-up before you guilt me into going with you.'

Kurt turned to the hairdresser, "Hi Juan-Claude Van Dam."

"It's Juan-Pierre Patisserie," the man announced in a fake French accent.

"Your surname is 'pastry shop'?" Abby raised a brow at the man as she handed him the nondisclosure agreement, "Sign your real name please."

"Clarence," Kurt quipped as he put the papers in his coat, "We need something powerful and homely, sophisticated and elegant. Any ideas?"

"Victoria Beckham bob," Abbey said suddenly, "In a honey blond; that is a powerful haircut and the blond makes it maternal, soft and homely. Kurt, sidebar."

"You heard the lady, get to work." Kurt sat down in the waiting area next to Abby, "Am I not doing a good job? Because I planned an entire afternoon of work on Carole."

"You are doing a great job but this is our case," Abby looked very displeased, "You can't keep me in the dark on all your plans."

"Oh," Kurt was mortified, "I thought you were monitoring me."

"No, we're partners and you need to work with me," Abbey looked particularly peeved, "You may be a political genius but I'm a pretty damn good fixer."

"I am sorry Abby," Kurt took a deep breath, and extended a hand of forgiveness, "I didn't mean to offend you, let's chuck it up to a misunderstanding."

Abby reluctantly took his hand, "Fine but don't let it happen again."

~0~

Kurt felt an arm draping over his shoulders as he walked onto the White house grounds, "If it isn't my favourite nephew."

Kurt rolled his eyes at the blond man, "Hollis, I'm your only nephew."

"Oh, whatever happened to that cute little southern accent of yours?" the man lead him through the west wing, "You just threw away your heritage, boy."

"I didn't throw anything away," Kurt tried to escape his uncle's grip, "It's a matter of external influences on your speech patterns. Let me go, I'm supposed to be in the east wing."

"Come with me for a moment," Hollis smiled, Kurt noted that he was chewing something in the most unseemly manner, "Let your uncle teach you a thing or two about the family business, it is half yours."

"I don't have a choice in this, do I?" Kurt was lead to the President's Chief of Staff's office.

"Cyrus, I want you to meet Kurt Hummel," Hollis pointed to the elderly man whom Kurt instantly recognised, "Kurt is a major shareholder at Doyle Energy, the mind behind our integration into green power and my favourite nephew. Kurt, this is Cyrus Beene."

"Mr Beene, It's a pleasure to meet you," Kurt smiled and shook the man's hand before turning to his uncle, "can I go now?"

"Charming, aren't you?" Cyrus looked sternly at Hollis, "What do you want? I'm late for a meeting."

"Let's walk and talk," He gestured for Kurt to follow them, "Tell me Cyrus, how close is the president to pulling the trigger on East Sudan?"

"He's weighing his options," Cyrus looked quite displeased, "Is that what you came here to discuss?"

"Of course not," Hollis bent over in laughter, "We have a meeting about the energy crisis. Tell the president that we at Doyle Energy will ensure that there isn't a disturbance in the foreign energy market should he decide to take us to war."

"We at Doyle Energy are horrified by the injustices and violations of human rights in East Sudan," Kurt gave his uncle a disapproving look, "But we want him to know that everyone here at home will be taken care of."

"No short falls or gas lines," he laid his hand on Kurt's shoulder, "Granma won't even shiver, you have our word."

"And I know Texans and their word."

"Imagine the word of two," Kurt smiled whilst Hollis guffawed loudly.

"Look at you all filled up like a deer tick on a prized steer," Hollis kissed the First Lady on the cheek; "You are positively glowing."

"Madam First Lady," Kurt shook her hand sternly, to which she replied by pulling him into a hug.

"Kurt, Hollis, I haven't seen you since the pair of you together since the campaign," She smiled at the pair, she wasn't nearly as round as Rachel but she was very pregnant, "Have you two been behaving?"

"Oh, I doubt it," Hollis spoke with endearment which caused her to laugh, "Y'all take care."

"Kurt," his former employer smiled at him, "How are you keeping up?"

"Married life is tiring but I'm sure you know all about that," he giggled with her, "I have to go, Quinn is waiting."

"Take care," she smiled broadly, standing as tall as him, he noted Cyrus's inquisitive glare, "Don't be a stranger."

Kurt scurried off before someone else could stop him for a chat. Navigation had never been one of his strong points but he found Quinn's office easily; he schooled his features before walking into her office and announcing himself, "Let's go because I need to get my drank on."

"Kurt, if there is one thing I can assure you about tonight is that we will get pissed," Quinn smiled villainously at him as she chastely kissed and hooked arms with him, leading him out of the national monument. She seemed to be in a good mood which meant this would be a log hunt, "I will take advantage of a tall dark handsome stranger and you will go home to take advantage of David. Tonight is going to be a night with no regrets, I've had a shit day preparing America's Baby's nursery with Mellie."

Kurt gave a supportive sigh as they slid into the waiting cab, "I don't envy you, are you even working in politics?"

"If by politics you mean organising meet and greets with idiots who don't immunise their kids, yes," Quinn was typing furiously on her Blackberry as she continued to complain about her job, "Mellie's platform is a little weak; good home values? It's either you have them or you don't."

"You have them and yet all you have is your job and our circle of friends," Kurt rolled his eyes at his single friend, "Why can't you find a nice man and settle down?"

"You sound like my parents!" Quinn was horrified as she threw her work phone in her handbag, "You're my best friend, you don't get to bitch about my status as a single thirty-something. Oh god that sounds bad, I'm in my thirties and I'm still alone. "

"You are not a thirty-something," Kurt laughed as they got out of the cab and he led her into their favourite bar, "I'm a thirty something, you're thirty. I'm only bringing it up because marriage used to be your ambition and now you have as much sex as Noah."

"I have not sleep with nearly as many people as Noah," she squealed as They fell into their booth in a fit of laughter, she smacked his arm playfully, "Take it back."

"Can't it's already out there," Kurt whispered in her ear with a giggle, he waved a waiter over, "We need tequila and lots of it, bring us a bottle and a pair of glasses."

"How many people have you had sex with?" Quinn asked him with a raised brow, "I just feel like he who is without sin should cast the first stone; you're judging me and yet I know nothing about your sexual history."

"I am a married man, what kind of question is that? I've been with David since I was fourteen," Kurt evaded the embarrassing question with a quick deflection of topic; Kurt held his ring finger in Quinn's face, "I've been married twelve years! Have you ever even been in a functional relationship?"

"These ten year wedding bands are to die for," Quinn sighed with longing as she admired the ring.

Kurt looked down at the titanium band with a combination of black and traditional diamonds, Kurt smiled, "This is twelve years of marriage and monogamy. Do you know how monogamy works?"

"Hey," She seemed to be touched by what Kurt was insinuating but gave it a great deal of thought anyway, after taking a large sip of her drink, "I was with Tom for a while."

"Sex is not a relationship," he shook his head at his desperately single friend, "I have set you up with all kinds of men; businessmen, politicians, athletes, professors and yet you managed to effectively remain single."

"Do you think I'm too pretty for monogamy?" her voice trailed off as she worked on her umpteenth drink, "Maybe I should try being a lesbian."

Kurt laughed at his friend's assertion, "Oh honey, I don't think that's how sexuality works but nice try. What you need to do is figure out what you want from a man because it is clear from the wide array of failed relationships under your belt, that you don't know what you want."

"What made you pick David?"

Kurt thought back to high school and smiled to himself;

...

"Hi," Kurt raised his head to the smiling teen; he rolled his eyes and pulled his horn rimmed spectacles down the bridge of his nose. He had been sitting uninterrupted in that spot in the school library every day at this time for as long as he'd been going to this school.

"Don't talk to me," He said before returning to his debating research; they were debating the efficacy of democracy in the third world and the last thing he needed was to be distracted by false sociability from someone who simply wanted a math tutor.

"I'm new here," the kid smiled and let out a deep breath.

"Clearly, if you were seasoned veteran of this school you would know the two unspoken rules of this school;" Kurt steely looked him in the eye and scowled, "You don't talk in the library and you don't talk to me."

"Why not?" the boy looked confused by the statement, "you seem reasonably nice."

"I am not nice; you just got here and know nothing about me. You came from public school in..." Kurt paused and waited for an answer to his prompt.

"Chicago," the boy smiled brightly.

"You came to this school from Chicago with your bright middle class hopes for the elite private school life that St. Clements Marist College offered you when they sold you that scholarship that you're going to spend the rest of high school fighting tooth and nail to keep," Kurt patronisingly smiled at the naive young man before him, "You think that the game is different in private school but it isn't; it's still about who you are, who you associate with and what you have. For scholarship students like you and I the third category is automatically written off because it prides them so much to have a pet charity case regardless of what you do or don't have."

The boy looked horrified by what Kurt was telling him but Kurt had given this speech once before, to himself and he'd chosen the lonely morally just road of living outside of the social pyramid of school; this ultimately left him in social Siberia.

"You're left with two categories to forage for points; who are you and who do you know." Kurt did a once over on the boy; he was a large strapping fellow with a good head of hair and handsome face. "You're probably of above average intelligence and an athlete with stellar abilities; this makes the 'you' an easy task to achieve, you go out and you play whatever sports it is you do and shine, people will be drawn to you which will be when you'll start on the second part. At this point you don't know anyone with power but who you don't know is power too because it allows you to easily integrate into the proper social circles."

The boy looked bewildered by all Kurt was saying to him, "I'm David Karofsky."

"You don't talk to me," Kurt laughed as he noticed how adorable the dimpled teen was, he gathered his things and made his way to the door but stopped before leaving to impart his final wisdoms of their short lived acquaintance; "Or I'll be the last person you talk to till after graduation."

...

Sometime after the incident in the library Kurt couldn't say he hadn't thought of the dimpled boy who'd smiled broadly at him; he had thought of that moment before he dismissed the boy over and over. He was plagued by images of those hazel eyes and curly chestnut hair that were burnt into his eyelids; it seemed like he woke from sleep to see them reaching out for him like a distant and faint childhood memory that was part of him. If Kurt closed his eyes he saw the boy, the boy that was walking down the deserted hallway toward him.

David, he'd said his name was, sat down beside Kurt on the bench that over looked schools extensive and recently remodelled multimillion dollar sporting facilities. Kurt shrank into himself, hoping the boy wouldn't engage but his prayers went unheard; "Hi, remember me? I'm the loser who talks in the library."

Kurt looked up from his copy of _The Moon is Down_ for a moment to acknowledge the boy's presence, "Hi."

"Kurt, right?" he smiled and reclined in the bench making himself comfortable, crossing his ankles and spreading his legs as though reclined on a comfortable couch; Kurt sat neat as a pin, with his back straight and his right arm crossing his chest in an attempt to pull himself out of existence.

The boy wore his uniform well for a ninth grader, most students wouldn't fill theirs out quite as well for some time: the black sport's blazer with red ribbon edging that outlined its contours sat on the boy's broad shoulders as though it were tailored for him, he had an authoritative air to him in the garment; his grey slacks fit him exceptionally well, accentuating the fruits of his evidently arduous exercise regimen; the boy's obvious aesthetic prowess was even complimented by the striped tie which brought attention to his broad chest and his dimples- no dimple, just on the right side. Kurt knew now that David would be a hit at his first football game; walking out of the locker room a victor, looking smart in his uniform; the girls from St Mary's would fawn over him and kill each other for his attention.

For the first time, Kurt felt a sense of inadequacy looking down at his oversized standard crimson blazer, sure it had the white braid that signified his academic achievement but it seemed to pale in comparison to the respect commanded by the black blazer.

"Hello," the boy was waving his hand in front of Kurt's line of sight, "Anyone home?"

"You should learn the difference between being ignored and somebody who is spaced out," Kurt got up with a huff and stormed off. He stopped just before reaching the end of the corridor, he turned back and walked with determination, "Actually, I was here first and this is my bench so if anybody has to leave it's you. Please go."

"Your bench?" The boy raised a finely sculpted brow, Kurt thought to ask him where he got them threaded for a moment before thinking better of it, "What is this, third grade?"

"No, it's my bench!" Kurt was getting worked up at this point, he hated having to explain himself, "I always sit in this spot and read, you are disturbing my regiment and I don't appreciate that."

"You really want to go kindergarten on this matter?" David guffawed which simply served to further infuriate Kurt, "Where's your name on it?"

Kurt smiled smugly because somehow he had known that this is what it'd come down to, "On the plaque behind you."

David checked the plaque and his jaw dropped, "Your names actually on the bench." He shook his head in disbelief, "Why is your name on the bench?"

"I'm president of the Conservation Club," Kurt paused sitting back in his seat; he opened his book and started reading again before pausing to verify a fact, "I'm the only member of the conservation club. The club traditionally puts benches around the school every five years to encourage people to spend time outside, it's a fundraising thing and the top ten fundraisers would get their names on plaques on the benches. I was the only one who participated this time round so I have my name on all the new benches."

David smiled at him, "What if I don't move?"

"Have you ever been stabbed before?" Kurt asked the larger boy, he sized him up and came to the conclusion that he could take him if it came to blows.

"You're going to stab me?" David was amused by Kurt's statement. He laughed loudly, doubling over in manic laughter, "Isn't that a little public school?"

"I don't have time to entertain this crap!" Kurt walked off mumbling curses under his breath.

...

Kurt sat in his French class as people paired off for conversations; he was used to not having to participate due to certain groups forming threes in an effort to exclude him. It had been weeks since he last sat in his reading spot and it was getting on his nerves because every time he went there he found David sitting comfortably on his bench.

"_May I have this seat?_" Kurt rolled his eyes at the sloppy French sentence construction, he lifted his head from his reading and was horrified by David's smiling face, "_Good afternoon Kurt._"

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," was the first thing that came out of Kurt's mouth, "Can you not get a hint?"

"_This conversation is supposed to be in French._" The boy smiled coyly.

"_I'm going to shove my fist so far down your throat it'll split your pelvic gurdle,_" Kurt tilted his head and smiled falsely, "_Is that French enough for you?_"

"_Why are you so hostile toward me?_" David asked him, leaning over the desk, "_Are you attracted to me?_"

"_Do I look like a child?_" Kurt quirked at him, "_Do I look like I am unable to assimilate my feelings for you and react accordingly?_"

David gave a devious smile, "_So, you admit you have feelings for me?_"

"_So many different feelings,_" Kurt leaned in close and lowered his voice; he could feel David's hot breath on his face, "_Disdain, resentment, dislike, hatred, detestation, abhorrence; so many names for my feelings for you._"

"You want to go out sometime?" David asked boldly, "I feel all the same things for you."

"What?" Kurt looked at the other boy like he'd lost his mind.

"I'm hot, you're hot," David leaned closer to Kurt who retreated, "it makes sense."

Kurt ran the idea over in his head, "It does, doesn't it?"

...

The memories of time gone by warmed Kurt, "I needed to be seen for more than I appeared to be and I needed a rock. What makes us work is that David needed someone who'd be strong and patient with him."

"I need to be needed too," Quinn let her hair down and discarded her blazer, she stood tall in a plain black dress, "I need a man who can stand his ground against my assertive nature; Rachel carried one of Hal's testicles in her purse, the other is in Mellie's purse."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "And the Quinn Bitch comes out, why can't you just play nice like the rest of us?"

"You called me a spinster on Monday!" she proclaimed defensively laying her head on his shoulder as she became more and more inebriated, "How is that playing nice?"

"I'm married, I don't have to play nice," Kurt slurred and smirked to himself as Noah sat down opposite the pair, "In fact it means I never have to be nice ever again."

Noah narrowed his eyes and smirked to himself, "And how exactly does that work?"

"I'd also like to know that," Quinn leaned forward as though she was intrigued by his never ending wisdom, "My parents were miserable their entire marriage."

"My parents separated for twelve years before sorting their shit out," Noah laughed at his parent's messed up relationship, "Then they got divorced straight afterwards. And you want to talk to me about married life?"

"I have more sex than both of you," Kurt smiled and leaned forward, "The last thing David and I did the last time I saw him was have sex. We don't have to like each other that day, I could be as mean as I like; yesterday I told him his breath smelled like something died in his mouth, we then proceeded to have wild sex."

Noah scoffed, "I don't believe it."

"Do you want to know why Rachel isn't here?" Kurt smiled broadly, "Because she's going to chew Hal's ear off about how swollen her feet are and then he's going to eat her out."

Quinn stared with eyes the size of saucers as she took another large sip of her drink, "Timid Hal? What does he know about giving head?"

"Apparently, Mr Rimbeau is a man of few words because his tongue is dedicated to other activities," Noah downed the remainder of his drink and flirted with the waitress as she brought them another bottle, "Rachel says he's got tongue like a bullet."

"She says it's the Hebrew," Kurt added with heart chuckle.

"Oh my gosh!" Quinn was slumped on the table in defeat, "Oh my god! I'm single, thirty and thirsty!"

"Is it me or is she running through the stages really fast tonight?" Noah seemed to ask Kurt who simply shrugged, "We're already on self-pity Quinn and you're sober; what's up with that?"

"I'm not drinking," Kurt looked down nervously, "I've been pumping her full of booze, I want to go home and sleep, I promised her hunting and so I'm giving her the abridged version."

"Ice cold Kurt!" Noah chuckled to himself, "your single friend asks for your help and you leave her out in the cold? That is just plain mean!"

"I am affording Quinn my time," Kurt flicked Noah's nose, "I just don't have the energy to sit through the whole thing or the heart to say no. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to freshen up and I expect optimistic Quinn when I get back."

Kurt walked across the bar he frequented so often the staff knew him and his group of friends by name; he checked his messages to find himself in the clear, he didn't want to miss out on work in the name of fake drinking. Kurt entered the deserted men's room and headed straight for the mirror, paying no mind to the clicking that probably came from a closing stall. He evens out his concealer and started reapplying his chap stick, Noah appeared behind him.

"If you're here, who's watching Quinn?" Kurt fixed a minor imperfection in his hair, "You know how vulnerable she is until she reaches the end of her drinking cycle."

"The bartender's got her, I need to work on my own drinking cycle," Noah's voice was low and ashy as he stood between Kurt and a stall.

"I never noticed you had a drinking cycle," Kurt had locked eyes with his friend's reflection, "That is other than promiscuity."

"I hide it well."

Kurt saw the hunger in the boy's eyes, "it's not drug, is it?"

"It's an addiction alright," Noah took a step toward Kurt and planted a tender kiss at the base of his neck, "I tried to keep this to myself but I can't get you out of my mind."

"Noah, I-" the larger boy caught Kurt's lips in an intense kiss, running his fingers through Kurt's hair, pulling the smaller boy into him.

"I need you," Noah whispered in his ear as he kissed Kurt more furiously and hungrily, lifting him onto the basin and balancing him against the mirror, "I've wanted you for five years, from the moment our eyes met it has only been you. Let me love you."

Kurt melted as the soft lips brutalised his own; his thoughts went to that word, love. Kurt loved David and this made him push Noah away by his shoulders, "You can't have me!" Kurt jumped off the basin and exited the bathroom with his mind swimming; Noah had overstepped the boundary, Noah had claimed to be addicted to him, Noah had begged to love him.

"Kurt," Quinn smiled at him as she lifted her head from the table, "I'm good enough, I don't need a man to give me head to prove it."

"Good girl," Kurt grabbed her arm and draped her over his shoulder, "Let's go to my place and finish this off."

"What about Noah?" Quinn asked as he stuffed her into the back of a cab, her breath reeked of spirits.

"Noah is in a time out."

~0~

Kurt was scrubbing dried puke off his hard wood floors, he was angry as hell at Quinn but knew well enough that it was due to circumstances that he had created and as such couldn't truly place any blame on the blond. He was trying his hardest not to gag on the strong stench of old vomit mixed with cleaning agent; the prolonged exposure was making him light headed, when a shadow was cast over him he took it as a call for him to take a short break. His eyes met Quinn's in the dim light of the rising sun, there Quinn stood looking halfway to alive already; if there was one thing he could commend his friend on it was not her ability to hold her liquor but rather her superior skills in the art of recovery.

"I'm sorry I puked in your lounge," she sat at the breakfast bar and steadied her head on the counter, she had showered and was looking truly phenomenal if one factored out the fact that she couldn't stand straight for too long, "That doesn't usually happen."

"It's my fault," as always Kurt felt compelled to tell the truth, he was diverting his thoughts from his infidelity and what his thoughts had been screaming at him all night since his bathroom encounter with Noah; in an effort to divert his attention from that matter he was playing the boy scout in every other facet of his life, "I didn't want to go hunting with you, I pumped you full of booze too quickly in an effort to get out of it. I'm sorry I was such a shitty friend, how's about one more hook up on me?"

Quinn smiled at him, it was genuine and that put Kurt at ease on the matter; his friendship with Quinn was very important and he couldn't fathom how he'd handle jeopardising that "As great as that sounds, I think I should just buy a vibrator and stay away from men for a while, I realise that I can be a bit crazy when it comes to finding a man and I rope you guys into that mess frequently enough that I understand when it gets on your nerves."

"I think I have a buy one get one free coupon for that in my dresser," Kurt smiled, "You know you puked in my hair?"

"Oh my god! You poor thing!" Quinn guffawed manically, bracing herself in an effort to stay balanced.

"I've shampooed it three times and it still smells like puke," Kurt took off the hairnet he wore for cleaning, "How does it look?"

"It's lighter," Quinn gave a booming chuckle at his deer in headlights expression.

"You have got to be shitting me!" Kurt scrambled to the mirror and was horrified to see his beautiful chestnut hair was now a coppery shade of brown with tips that were closer to blond than brown, "Your vomit bleached my hair!"

Quinn was moments from rolling on the ground laughing at this point, "I think your shampoo may have aggravated it."

"I look like Emma Watson!" Kurt screamed at his friend who was yet to stop laughing, "I can't go out in public like this!" Kurt started pacing in a panic, "Hat's! Why didn't I think of that?"

"You did think of it," Kurt said as her fits of laughter subsided.

"What is going on down here?" David came down the stairs in his pyjamas, "I'm trying to sleep after performing the final surgery on my first patient."

"Go back to sleep sweetheart," Kurt smiled, speaking in a soothing voice as he turned David around before he became sufficiently conscious and noticed his hair, "Quinn was laughing about her behaviour last night."

"Good night fancy," David turned and gave Kurt a chaste kiss, his eyes went wide, "I like your hair... it is very... new."

"Go to sleep!" Kurt was abrupt in his tone.

"You know normal people are upset when their spouses don't notice their sudden dramatic changes in appearance," David shook his finger at Kurt disapprovingly with a 'tut, tut, tut', "You need to work on that attitude of yours."

"You need to work on me not killing you," Kurt glared at David as he disappeared upstairs with a goofy smile on his face. Kurt turned abruptly and glared at Quinn, "What have you done?"

"Just go to the salon where Mellie does her hair," Quinn leaned in for a closer look and he swatted her away, "Juan-Pierre Patisserie will fix that mess."

"It'll have to wait," Kurt said as he got back to scrubbing the floors, "If I colour my hair now it will all break and fall off."

"On another more tantalising subject," Quinn smiled suggestively, "Why is the man with the perfect marriage in possession of coupons for instruments of self-pleasure."

"We ran an advertising campaign in an affiliate publication of the post for an establishment that sells said instruments of self-pleasure," Kurt laughed with his friend, "I don't need the instruments in question, my sex life is quite impressive and I don't see it slowing down anytime soon."

"Oh lord," Quinn's face paled, "I'm even tempted to go get me some of that right now."

"I'm not sure how cooperative he would be with that, you are lacking in certain areas and to well-endowed in others." Kurt turned on the skillet, reading the instructions on the post-it beside it; "I'm supposed to sauté the contents for two minutes, how do I do that?"

"You can do almost everything but you still can't cook for shit," Quinn giggled as she took over the breakfast, "You are useless in the kitchen; if David left you alone for a week, he'd come back and you'd have died of starvation."

"I bake, I would eat lemon cheesecake for every meal," Kurt smirked at how at home Quinn looked behind the stove, "I think I'd fair pretty well on my own, although I would probably get fat and die."

Quinn doubled over laughing, "I could never imagine you as anything other than a size zero."

"I do work hard to maintain this figure," Kurt scoffed at the statement, "preteen bulimia might have gotten me to this point but hard work and perseverance are key to maintenance."

"They had bulimia when you were a preteen?"

"I'm only like three years older than you!" Kurt was flabbergasted by the insinuation that he was old, "Of course they had bulimia, how else were fat kids supposed to realise their dreams of being a size zero?"

"Future leader of America speaking," Quinn handed him a plate of food, "How could you say something like that?"

"I am not promoting eating disorders, I'm just admitting that it has happened to me," Kurt spoke honestly as he ate his breakfast, "I recovered and would never wish such a travesty on any one; as much as the media may promote the idea of being a size zero, one must attain that the right way."

"Oh, that could be a great platform for Mellie," Quinn chuckled feeding Kurt a spoonful of her mushroom omelette into Kurt's mouth, "The First Lady fighting eating disorders in every household; almost every kid in the world has some kind of eating problem, either over or under eating."

"I can't believe you're thinking politics," He giggled as he sipped his orange juice, "I guess those are just the people we are, you're a political animal."

~0~

Kurt waltzed into the office to find Olivia reprimanding Congressman Shaw; he was shocked and confused by her actions but from what Abby had told him, he knew better than to question her authority. Kurt walked cautiously because he thought he had all his bases covered on the case but based on the look of disdain on Olivia's beautiful face. He crept into the boardroom cautiously and stood beside Abby, "What's going on?"

"Your very gifted friend has a sex problem," she said with a hunger in her eyes as she was looking him over, "He's promiscuous."

"Yeah, we know that," Kurt was confused by what she meant, he had cleared those bases before they even agreed to take him on as a client. She pointed to the window, he noticed all the new pictures on the window, "I don't understand; we dealt with this during his campaign, why is it a factor now."

"The tape's coming out and this is going to be fuel to the fire," Abby was still looking at his friend strangely, Kurt wasn't sure what that look was but it made him feel uncomfortable on his friend's behalf, "He's good at what he does though."

Kurt was flawed and flabbergasted by her statement, "You saw the sex tape?"

Abby let out a sexually fuelled staggered breath, "Four times."

Kurt was wreaking his brain trying to find a way around the mess of a political sex scandal, "We make this a regular sex scandal."

"What?" Olivia looked peeved by his disruption of her anger filled rant.

"We release the sex tape on a regular gossip blog," Kurt took the floor with a smile, his mind was working a mile a minute, "we Kim Kardashian it by using the attention brought by the scandal to get the Congressman's message out there; don't be sorry it happened, be sorry for what it means for your constituents."

"You go wait in your office," Abbey seemed to be catching his wavelength, which was impressive because most people couldn't keep up with him, and taking on a disciplinary tone, "At midday leave for lunch and we'll have the press waiting on the Capitol steps, then you'll meet another group after lunch. We set up Jimmy Kimmel tonight, David Letterman and Piers Morgan later this week."

"Piers said yes?" Kurt looked excited before recomposing himself, "You use all this media attention to discuss your plans and visions for this country; health care, job creation, talk about the issues people are avoiding."

"I might have mentioned that it was a potential game changer when it comes to sex scandals in this country," she said effortlessly flipping her hair triumphantly.

"You two have that handled," Olivia smiled reassuringly but failed to offer an actual compliment or reaffirmation, "Harrison, let's go, the Lindsey Dwyer case awaits."

Kurt and Abby sat down at the board room table and smiled at each other, Kurt smiled at his partner, "I think this was truly a success in the making, if Jacob follows our instruction to the tee then we're sure to have a home run."

"I enjoyed working with you," Abby smiled as she sipped her coffee, "Don't tell anyone I sai-"

"Are you Kurt Edmund Elizabeth Christopher Hummel, the eighth?" Kurt looked at the pair of large men who were obvious Secret Service operatives, they kind of reminded him of Hal.

"I am Kurt Hummel," Abby raised a questioning eyebrow, "How might I be of assistance?"

"We need you to come with us," One of the large men said in a tone that didn't allow for negotiation.

"I guess I'll be back later," Kurt got up and followed the men out of the office, he ran through the possibilities of his summons and the possibilities scared him just a little bit. He was led out of the building and there was a large black sedan parked in front of the office building, the agent's stood on either side of the door ushering him into the dimly lit backseat.

"What in the name of Kristen Chenoweth has possessed you to summon me?" Kurt demanded as he slid into the backseat, his jaw dropped when he realised that it wasn't his father or his contact.

"Kurt, thank you for seeing me," Mellie sat with both hands on her belly in a truly maternal manner, "I really need to see you."

"Mrs Grant," Kurt was floored, he smiled the heavily pregnant woman as he tried to figure out what the woman wanted from him, "How might I be of assistance?"

"I have come to understand that your work since the campaign has been of a political nature," Mellie looked out of the window nervously her hands clutching her belly desperately, "I need you to help me."

Kurt looked at the First Lady nervously, her behaviour was erratic and that unsettled Kurt exponentially, "I'll do my best to help you out in whatever way within my power."

"My husband," Mellie let out a slow steady breath, "My husband who I gave up my successful career as a Lawyer for, who I am having a late in life baby to cover an affair he had with a White House aide; that husband called me ornamental. Apparently my nudge on Kimberly Mitchell last night on the East Sudan matter wasn't appreciated, apparently he only listens to his girlfriend Olivia Pope and not his wife."

"The President is sleeping with Olivia Pope? And a White House aide?" Kurt's mind was completely blown at this point, he was out of the loop of the deranged sex crazed political life, "What do you need my help with? I don't understand my role in this mess you call a life."

"Kurt, As you know I am a very ambitious woman and I see my own very successful political career on the horizon but I think my husband's infidelities may get in the way of that," Mellie still seemed on edge but she may have settled after venting her frustrations, "I need you to ensure that regardless of how my husband decides to take care of his erections, can you do that for me?"

An eerie silence hung in the air as Kurt tried to get his thoughts in order, "First things first; the American people will never be able to trust anyone with the name Grant ever again if your husband fails as president, it'll be Bush all over again."

"So what do I do?" Mellie held on to her belly and shut her eyes, she chuckled slightly, "Do I need to get rid of Olivia Pope? Do I need to buy my husband a chastity belt?"

"You need to keep a lid on this affair until the right moment," Kurt looked her in the eye and took her hand in his own, "You need to ensure that regardless of how he feels about her, this remains a dirty little affair. I'll arrange a meeting with Quinn and we'll change your entire platform, it needs to be more powerful and effective than fat kids; you need to work on health care and education, help the poor and uplift those who need empowerment."

"I need to be good guy?" Mellie laughed as she wiped tears from her eyes, Kurt could see the pain embedded deep in those sad brown eyes, "My husband gets to screw his mistress, the woman he loves, to his heart's content; I have to smile and save America from imploding."

Kurt made eye contact but couldn't hold it for more than a moment, "a successful two term presidency for your husband is simply one of the stops you need to make on the road to your own political aspirations; you need to break yourself and give pieces of yourself away in order to get what you desire."

She gave him a haunted look, before speaking in a deep breathy voice, "Take me to the promise land."

~0~

_And they Said Politics was Dead_

_The last time the world heard from me, I had Bill in my mouth like Hillary Rodham. At the conclusion of that administration, juicy scandals lost their allure and I was forced into early retirement. For a short period of time it seemed the game had changed and people like me were no longer needed; we melted into the shadows waiting for the day when the pieces would walk in the darkness with us. I have a purpose in the political system of this nation; I serve as the illuminator for the people and I have been resurrected with that purpose in mind._

_We have a fresh set of pieces on the board of D.C.'s craziest chess game and they don't play clean; walking in the shadows with the demons in their pockets. President Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III has gotten too comfortable as the King, believing that he controls the shadows that he walks amongst; that simply makes the game more fun for the rest of us. This cannibalistic game of political animals, monsters and forces of nature is played by multiple teams united against the unknown enemy; black, white and red chess pieces stand beside each other against the undying shadows._

_Beside the King it seems there are two queens; the pawn turned White Queen works to please the King's every whim at any cost and my favourite; the Black Queen serves only herself, no matter the cost. We recently all saw the Black Queen's powers at play; despite what might be said to the contrary she has sounded her battle horn and declared war on the enemy and her allies. Are all the king's horses and all the kings men ready for the battle that's about to ensue?_

_The Black Queen has played her hand, let the pieces fall where they may..._

_-J.B. Prince_

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**Hope you liked it.**


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